Sasae motte Touhou
by PhantomPanther
Summary: She was only meant to stay for a year when fate decided to intervene. Now working as a high profile executive in the most infamous Duel Monster technology company, she thought life couldn't get much better, but if only she knew what was yet to come...
1. Coffee

It was one of those days, one of those cold, miserable spring days that lead you into a false sense of security, being that the past few days had been warm and, well, springy. You were about to shove all your winter clothes to the bottom of your drawer and suddenly you realise it was probably a good idea you didn't, because today was cold, like the first frost of the winter, and everyone starts saying "looks like winter's on its' way" so many times that you actually don't bother waiting for the weather to come on television because you know that every day for the next three months is going to be the same: cold.

It was also one of those days where you hesitated to get up in the morning; thought about calling in sick just because you didn't want to get out of the warm depths of the cocoon commonly known as your bed. For me, I didn't have much of a choice. The holidays were almost over – a harsh reminder that I had at least a thousand dollars still yet to save before I could buy a one-way ticket home. My determination to return home was dwindling, as it seemed impossible to save anything you earned and live independently in this beautiful but expensive country of Japan.

A friend of mine had landed me a temping job in a lawyer's practice in which her father was a partner of. However hideous it could be sometimes, it earned me my keep and ever-so-slowly my savings account balance increased. I was fresh out of high school and in desperate need for some source of income. Living in Japan for the past three years had been amazing; I had met some of the best friends I could ever ask for, seen sights so beautiful that they made me break down and bawl, eaten some of the best food I had ever tasted and gotten so spectacularly drunk, waking up thinking "damn, I feel like shit. But damn, it was worth it".

I was something of a novelty, working here at this practice. Being fluent now in Japanese and also English definitely had its oddities. Clients would walk into reception, gawk at me for a moment, and then politely ask me if I could understand or speak Japanese. Reassuring them that I _did_, they appeared somewhat embarrassed and took their seats. It wasn't until today – this stormy, freezing cold March day – that things at work began to get interesting.

"I need some typing done, urgently." Yokita-san – the practitioner for whom I primarily worked – said, somewhat flustered, as he slapped a thick pile of documents onto my desk. "My client will be here in…" he checked his watch. "Now."

"Thanks for the heads' up." I muttered as he walked away. I looked down at the draft copy of the contract with Yokita's writing on it and began typing. It wasn't until I noticed who the contract was actually for, that I realised why Yokita appeared to be so on edge.

As if by magic, the elevator doors opened and a tall, statuesque man who appeared to be in his early twenties walked through. I could tell merely by his appearance that he was a man not to be messed with; despite the fact he seemed so young. He was clad in a fine-quality black suit, blue silk tie, shiny black leather shoes and smelt – not overpoweringly so – of Giorgio Armani. Dark hair was cropped and styled to a perfect business-like manner, yet trendily so, with what looked like a slick of styling product through it.

There was absolutely no mistaking that husky, somewhat guarded voice, "I am here to see Yokita-san at eleven o'clock."

Hiromi, the portly, middle-aged Japanese woman who answered the phones, looked as if she were about to spontaneously combust. Her face reddened and she was physically unable to stop smiling as she scurried off to find Yokita-san and let him know that his client had arrived.

Seto Kaiba made himself comfortable on one of the black leather couches in the reception waiting area. I was somewhat stunned myself, knowing that one of the biggest business tycoons in the world was sitting about three metres away from me. I almost felt a fragment overwhelmed. Seto Kaiba was a celebrity, after all, famed none other for his intelligence, money and good looks. It was rare for one to get so close to him without his bodyguards telling you to talk to the hand, or his little brother trying to kick you in the nads as he had once famously done recently to a paparazzo (which was hilarious, by the way). He looked even better in real life, I realised, and the moment he looked at me for the first time, my heart about leapt into my throat.

Those eyes… They were his trademark. They had women and men alike going weak at the knees, and though he was known around the globe for having striking blue eyes, there was nothing quite like being able to witness them first hand. I almost felt privileged, before the more realistic side of my brain reminded me that he was even more notorious for being known as an arrogant, stuck-up jerk with entirely too much money and the personality of a slug, the kind of slut that eats your lettuces that you tried so hard to grow. With that thought firmly in mind, I went back to typing furiously. This was no reason to get fired, after all.

Yokita-san came striding into reception with a confident smile on his face a few moments later. Kaiba obviously took this as his cue and stood up to greet him.

"How nice to meet you, Kaiba-sama. Do you take coffee, or tea?" Yokita asked, clearly kissing his ass.

"Coffee. White with one." Not even a 'please'?

Yokita quickly approached my desk. "Could you make us some coffee? And bring those contracts in with you too, please."

Like I had a choice. "No problem." Smiling sweetly.

Kaiba glanced at me once, nodding his thanks, before following Yokita-san to his office. His expressionless face unnerved me a little. But from the scant information I knew about the man, it was understandable. He was a global business icon and had a reputation to uphold. Or maybe that was just the way he really was. Not that I really wanted to think about feeling remotely sorry for him because of this reason. He had everything, didn't he? He didn't need my pity, that was for sure.

Making the two coffees (a task I had become accustomed to since I had succumbed to the habit myself at the age of 16) I swooped up my documents from my desk on the way past and rounded the corner to Yokita's office. It appeared they were in deep conversation about the purchase of a building in which Kaiba planned to buy, restore, and turn into a museum-slash-shrine for everything and anything related to Duel Monsters – his specialty. Anyone who didn't know about Kaiba's obsession for the game and technology must have been living under a rock for the past… five years, give or take. I wasn't even living in _Japan_ five years ago and I knew about the Chosen One and his empire. Kaiba was even more famous for the craze than its' original creator – Maximillion Pegasus of Industrial Illusions.

"Your coffee," I stated, setting the drinks down on Yokita's desk. "And your contracts."

An hour had passed before the door to Yokita's office finally opened. There were a few words of gratitude exchanged between both parties before Yokita saw his client off. Kaiba Seto walked - one might almost say _glided_ - elegantly into the foyer. I regretted to say that he startled me as he halted on the other side of my desk. I glanced at him curiously, blinking.

"Can I help you...?"

"You make a good cup of coffee."

I nearly snorted. Thank God I didn't. "Um... sure."

"I wondered if you might be interested in working for me. I could do with a cup of coffee like that every morning." His voice was cool and collected, not even a hint of mockery in his manner.

A most absurd thought came to mind. "You want to hire me because I make a good cup of Joe?"

He closed his cerulean eyes, smiling somewhat amusedly. "That, and, I think I could offer you a better opportunity than this place could, just quietly."

Now _this_ slapped me in the face like a wet fish. I imagined how good it would look to have "secretary - six months - Kaiba Corporation" splashed onto my curriculum vitae. I would get hired anywhere in the world after having worked at Kaiba's company, wouldn't I? Imagine it, using _the_ Seto Kaiba as a reference for my next job I landed at home. It was almost laughable. Nobody would ever believe it.

"What would I be doing?"

"Why don't we discuss that over dinner?"

What?! "Dinner?" I croaked. "Uh..." I looked into his confident, unwavering expression. Still no sign of mockery. "Okay…?"

"I'll have someone pick you up at seven," He said. "I'll need your address."

_Tonight!?_ I thought. _Fuck!_ With my heart thumping like a male gorilla in mating season, I fumbled to find a pen and scribbled my address down on a piece of scrap paper. He folded it neatly and put it into the pocket inside his suit jacket.

He nodded and then scowled a bit. "Dress nicely."

Before I had time to fully comprehend the meaning of that statement, Kaiba had walked effortlessly through the elevator doors. I sat, staring at those doors for what seemed like an age, the phones ringing off the hook. I realised that his scowl was directed toward my attire – and I didn't normally make an effort to look good when I was at work. What was his idea of 'nicely', anyway? Casual? Classy? Cocktail? Formal? Black tie? Chicken suit? _Birthday_ suit?! It would help if I knew where we were apparently going.

It was just now that I realised Hiromi was staring at me. "He asked you out!" she suddenly blurted, as if I didn't already know.

"Yeah..." I replied slowly, still waiting for it to all sink in myself. "I just don't quite believe it."

**


	2. Wine

Phantom: Mmmkay, so is a lot different to what it used to be, and the process for posting a story is apparently more complicated xD thus, I will try and remember to put opening notes on my chapters, like this one. Oh, and chapter titles! For those who were wondering what the title of the story means, it roughly translates to "Stay With Me" (I think, could be wrong...), and the title of the first chapter was supposed to be "Coffee" ^^;; So, without further adieu, here is the second instalment! (PS – I'm not obsessed with beverages, I just thought I'd base this story's chapter titles on the relevant fare, since I'm something of a foodie myself! :D)

Chapter Two: Wine

**

I walked home later that evening feeling unsure, a little apprehensive about the idea of sitting down to dinner with this man who was both admired and loathed by the world. Would I become part of the twisted tabloid world if somebody saw me out with him tonight? I could see it now - "Seto Kaiba's New Mystery Woman!" all over the next edition of _Hello!_.

It was almost six o'clock by the time I arrived home, which meant I had just over an hour to find something to wear so I looked semi-decent for this occasion. As it turned out, the only nice pieces I owned would only be good for a warm, summery night. It was, of course, not warm at all. I settled on a pair of black pants teamed with a dressy top. You could never go wrong with black, after all, being that it was timeless and had the effect of making your ass look shapely rather than frumpy. Besides, maybe he would appreciate my European style of clothing as opposed to the cutesy, sometimes radical approach to fashion that Japanese girls often had.

Being a European Caucasian living in an Eastern country had its pitfalls. For one, the clothes were designed for the generally short, petite size of most Japanese women. It could sometimes be hard to find anything that fit well, especially for me, being that I had a well-rounded hourglass figure thanks to my Argentinean lineage. On the other hand, the men more or less thought you were overweight or abnormally tall – or both – such was the case for me. I came to know this well, having dated a young Japanese man for a short period of time. Let's just say it didn't end well.

Having decided to wait outside my apartment building for whomever was coming to escort me, I thought it might have been wise to invest in an umbrella. As Murphy's Law would have it, it began to patter with rain - right after I had finally been satisfied enough to exit the house with my coiffed, teased and hair-sprayed 'do. Thankfully, my ride came shortly after the rain began. I stared like a stunned mullet – as one might put it – at the sleek black limousine that rolled up to a halt at my apartment-building doorstep. The driver exited the vehicle and came to open the door for me.

"Good evening, madam." he said with a coy smile.

I nodded. "And to you." And slipped inside the elongated car.

Sitting alone in the back of this alien vehicle, I started to feel somewhat anxious. I half expected Kaiba to be in the car upon arrival, but that was not the case. It struck me like a jolt of lightening that I actually had no idea what in the fresh Hell I was doing. Who said 'yes' to random strangers who asked you out for dinner because they wanted you to work for them? Certainly no traditionally respectful Japanese girl. Then again, that wasn't exactly me, was it now? It was a bizarre state of affairs.

I tried to push my nerves aside and decided to concentrate on the matter at hand. This "date" – if you could even call it that – was purely on professional grounds – an opportunity to up my career status. Then again, if it was for that reason only, why didn't Kaiba just ask me to come for an interview at his offices? With that thought in mind, I suddenly felt a lot more nauseous.

**

"Enjoy your evening, madam." The chauffeur - whose name I learnt was Soiko - said to me as I stepped out of the limousine.

"Thank you, Soiko."

Upon arrival, I realised that the restaurant Kaiba had chosen to partake in this "meeting" was of an Indo-Chinese style and had to be one of the most upper-class places in Domino city. I vaguely recalled seeing a write-up in some trashy gossip magazine a while back about this place being one of Kaiba's favourites. Gingerly, I stepped inside the restaurant's glamorous foyer. Dark maroon and black Oriental-patterned walls stood boldly against the dim light cast down by beautiful, dramatic crystal chandeliers. An aquarium the size of a small swimming pool featured against one side of the restaurant on the upper patio.

The maitre d' glanced up at me and smiled as I gawked at the place. "Your reservation?"

Startled, I racked my brain. "Uh... it will be in the name of Kaiba."

She appeared somewhat surprised, but quickly masked it with feigned innocence. "Right this way."

I followed the pretty Japanese waitress to a beautifully decorated table in the upper terrace of the restaurant. Sitting at the table – which was adjacent to the amazing tropical aquarium – was the business God himself, Kaiba Seto – or Seto Kaiba, in English. So classily dressed was he that for a moment I thought I felt my knees buckle under me. An insane thought of being underdressed suddenly ran through my mind. Once again he was clad from head to toe in designer wear – Hugo Boss, if I wasn't mistaken. He looked up at me as the waitress pulled out my chair for me. I took my seat quickly, hoping I appeared somewhat graceful, which was a task in itself. An oddly amused smirk changed his features as he studied me; I scrutinized him back, trying not to let my nerve show.

"You polish up nicely," He said in that composed, crisp voice of his.

I swallowed. "Could say the same for you."

"Pinot noir?"

"Huh?" I asked at the abrupt change of subject. "Oh, wine, uh… I prefer sauvignon blanc."

"Not a fan of red?"

"Not particularly."

"You don't know what you're missing out on."

"I know what I like."

"So do I."

So far, not good. I was feeling tense in the presence of this stranger, and had no idea how to remedy the situation. I sighed and poured myself a glass of water.

"Would you like to order a starter? Our entrée special for this evening is oysters on the half shell in a virgin olive oil and Bloody Mary marinade." The waitress, I realised, had returned rather hastily, and thankfully.

Kaiba skimmed the menu. "I'd rather the tempura Tiger Prawns," he said, and then addressing me, "What would you like?"

"I'll have the giant scallops, please." I said, being an avid fan of seafood but not so much of raw, squishy oysters.

"We'll also have a bottle of Church Road sauvignon blanc for the table." Kaiba added, and I flushed.

"Certainly." The waitress then high-tailed it.

Kaiba's eyes slid back to mine slowly, and if I was able to take deep breaths, I would have. Did he have this effect on everyone? Or was I just another female imbecile to fall under his spell? Probably the latter, I sighed mentally, and face-palmed, also mentally.

"So then, about this job…" I said once I'd collected myself, trying not to get caught up by the azure eyes across from me. Those eyes could make people do stupid things.

"My personal secretary is taking maternity leave very shortly." Kaiba replied. "So it will only be temp work. A year at most."

I had to say, I was genuinely surprised to actually hear that Kaiba had a job on offer. I thought, at the back of my mind, that he might just be one of those sleazy rich men who talk shit to get what they want, like the greasy property developers that frequented my current workplace. I couldn't count the amount of times I had had comments on what I was wearing or questions about what I had been up to in the weekend. What the hell did they care? They were only out for one thing, after all.

"Suits me." I replied, sipping my water. "I don't plan to be in the country this time next year, anyway."

"So I hear."

How did he know about that? "Yokita told you?"

"I was curious."

"About…me working for him?"

"Yes," Kaiba replied, and for a moment I thought I saw his cheeks colour. "And also how he managed to find somebody who makes such a damned good cup of coffee."

I snorted in embarrassment. "You should just buy a cappuccino maker." I finished lamely.

"It just seemed unusual for… someone like you… to be working in a privately owned practice." I could see he was trying to word my Caucasian-ness as politely as possible.

I shrugged. "I am friends with the senior partner's daughter," I explained. "She mentioned to her father that I needed a job to make some money so I could buy my ticket home. They needed a secretary, so, he hired me."

He seemed satisfied with my account. "I will need to ask you some questions."

I smiled crookedly. "Is this an interview, now?"

Our entrees and the bottle of white wine arrived. "That all depends on how you take the questions I'm about to ask you."

Why did he have to be so cryptic? "Go ahead, then." I replied, starting to feel a little more at ease. I plopped one of my giant scallops onto the stone grill plate in front of me. It sizzled and crackled a bit.

"Where are you from?" Kaiba asked bluntly, looking as though he had been trying to work it out the whole time we had been sitting here. "You don't sound American. Or British."

Ah, this old game again. I even had the intelligently-awesome Kaiba Seto puzzled as to my place of origin! Oh, now, _that_ was rich. "Do you speak English?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied, in English. "Fluently."

I grinned, a little taken aback, but not really surprised. Kaiba was supposed to be abnormally intelligent, after all. "Mind if we speak in it?"

"Not at all," he replied. "Now, answer my question."

I downed a scallop. "Ever heard of New Zealand?"

A nod. "Your accent is…unique."

Despite that comment, I managed to laugh. "Most people think I'm Australian."

"Understandably. Do you like it in Japan?"

"I love it." I said simply, because I did. "If I could stay here for good, I would. But, my family wants me back… And it's too damned hard to get a residency here."

"What high school did you attend?" Kaiba asked, popping one last prawn into his mouth before setting his plate aside.

"Sakomata College." I said. Kaiba looked at me askance. "Yeah, I know. It's not the most prestigious school in Domino, but it's what they call the 'sister school' to my old high school at home. So I kind of got set-up through them. No say in the matter, really."

"How long were you there for?"

"Two years." I replied, now having unconsciously realised that my quaking nerves had completely subsided. "I was only supposed to spend a year here, but I liked it so much that I decided to stay."

Kaiba creased a brow slightly. "Didn't your family have anything to say about that?"

Something inside me recoiled. I smiled, though. "I lived with my step-father. My real Dad was never on the scene, and my mum left my step-father to be with some guy in Canada when I was 13. So when I told my step-dad – his name is Nigel – that I didn't really want to come home after a year living in Japan, he said that I should do what made me happy. So I stayed."

"That's… interesting." Kaiba said after a moment of mulling this over. "It's nice to know that not everybody comes from the Brady Bunch."

I laughed. "How about you? Tell me about your family."

Suddenly the maitre d' sidled up to our table once again. "Are you ready to order your mains?"

"Yes," Kaiba said, a little hastily. I noticed he hadn't actually even looked at the menu, yet. "I'll have the braised pork belly on garlic mash," he finished after giving it a quick once-over.

"Certainly." The maitre d' then turned to me. "And for you?"

"Uhh…" I hesitated, hurriedly trying to find something appetizing on the menu. Everything was terribly expensive, but I decided to splurge. "The crayfish mornay for me, thank you."

With a swish of her pen, the waitress disappeared once again.

"Top up?" Kaiba questioned, reaching for the bottle of sauvignon blanc.

"Thank you," I replied, letting him refill my glass. I gathered that he was deliberately evading my question about his own family, so decided not to press. "Exactly what will my job entail?" I questioned, changing the subject. "Obviously there will be more of a workload than what I'm doing at the moment."

"I would imagine so." Kaiba replied, almost sarcastically, I thought. "Basically you'll be typing up reports, and letters of my dictation; organizing my appointments, meetings and daily schedule and you will take my phone calls if I'm out or busy."

"That's it?"

Kaiba smiled, almost cheekily, I thought. "I guess you'll find out."

I sat back, returning his smirk. "I haven't said I'd take the job, yet."

"What will it take to persuade you, then?"

"You haven't mentioned any details on a salary, yet."

"Double what you're on now."

My breath suddenly caught in my throat. Double? He couldn't be serious. Then again, he was a billionaire. My annual salary was barely a drop in the ocean compared to the balance that I hated to think was in his bank account. He probably gave his kid brother the same amount for pocket money each week… Back to the point – if he was going to double my salary, I could be home in six months or less. How could I refuse?

"Really?"

"Really." He confirmed.

I grinned so hard I thought my face might split in half. "Where do I sign?"

"I'll get a contract drafted for you tomorrow."

I sat back and sipped my wine, subtly scrutinizing him. He didn't appear to be joking in any manner or form, but if he was, he was bloody good at keeping a straight face. In any case, this was Seto Kaiba, the richest man in Japan and possibly all of Asia itself, so it's not like he couldn't afford it. I did wonder, though, why he had chosen me and not somebody else. I had a job already, after all. Why not interview people who were _trying_ to get a job?

"You look like you don't believe me," Kaiba said just as the waitress arrived with our meals.

"I guess I'm just… a bit shell-shocked." I said. My meal looked delicious – a whole lobster tail with a creamy mornay sauce with a side of garlic and rosemary new potatoes and soy-marinated green beans. "A lot of people would give their eye teeth to be in my position right now, and I didn't even ask for it. I've never even thought about working for you before now."

"Why is that?"

I shrugged. "I don't know… I guess I just thought you probably wouldn't have looked twice at someone like me."

"I can see you have potential," he said, tucking into his pork belly. "But you're right – I wouldn't let just anyone work for me."

I took that as a compliment, and ran with it. "Well, I just hope I don't disappoint you, is all."

"If you do, you'll be the first to know." He smiled wryly at me.

I laughed and refilled our glasses again. "Cheers."

**


	3. Sake

Phantom: Thank you for the reviews thus far! I must say I am happy to see a much better reception on than on ^_^ So now, here we are with chapter 3…

Chapter 3: Sake

**

The following morning proved to be a challenge for me. In hindsight, this should have been expected. I was feeling a little woozy from the quantity of wine I had consumed last night, and having to get out of bed at 6am with a mild hangover knowing I had a full day's work ahead of me didn't go down so well. Kaiba's chauffeur had dropped me home somewhere about ten o'clock last night – which might not sound especially late – but being that the wine was flowing free I decided to take advantage, and now I came to realise that it might not have been such a good idea. I mentally noted not to get on the turps on a work night.

Thankfully, after a shower and stepping out to face a warm, definitely springy day (this time), my spirits seemed to lighten. The air was thick with sakura tree blossoms as I strolled through the concrete jungle known as Domino to my workplace in the centre of town. It was probably a good thing that I lived close to my work; everything I needed, in fact, was close by. I'd grown quite accustomed to my little apartment that I had lived in since I had moved to Japan; it was like my baby, my sanctuary from the hectic lifestyle I had learned to endure. Admittedly, life back in New Zealand was a lot more laid back, but I liked it here. It pained me a little, knowing that I would be leaving soon, but that didn't mean I couldn't come back if things didn't work out.

It was Friday, which usually meant it would be busy at work – what with settlements and the like – but for some reason, this week it was exactly the opposite of that. I quite enjoyed it when we had the rare occasion of a quiet Friday. A green tea with lime zest first thing after I got to work seemed to have cleared the haze in my head and settled my stomach, and by the afternoon I was feeling brand new again.

"So," Hiromi said to me, some time in the afternoon. "How did it go last night?"

I frowned to myself. Hiromi was always up for some form of scandal. "'It' went fine." I replied, declining to elaborate.

"What did you talk about? Is he nice? Did you... you know?!" Hiromi started to get carried away; her cheeks becoming flushed with gossip-induced excitement.

"For Kami's sake, Hiromi!" I yelled, embarrassed. "It was just dinner. Nothing more, nothing less. And yes, he is nice. Nicer than _everyone_ seems to make him out to be, anyway."

"He must like you." she said with a wise nod. "Do you think he's looking for a girlfriend?"

Great, I knew she'd try and go down this path. "How the hell should I know?" I retorted. "It's not like we talked about _that_ sort of thing, at all. It wasn't a romantic dinner, if that's what you're thinking."

"Why else would he ask you out to dinner, then?" Hiromi countered. "Men don't ask women out just because they want to be friends."

My plan to evade the topic of working for Kaiba was about to crash and burn, I realised. "Why don't you ask him yourself, then?"

Suddenly the phone rang, so I jumped at the chance to escape Hiromi's conversation spider web that she had caught me in. "Good afternoon, Yokita Takenouchi and Co."

[Hm. You sound different on the phone.]

Tingles immediately erupted in my stomach as his chilly voice resonated in my ear. "How'd you know it was me?"

[Your accent.]

I laughed fretfully, feeling foolish. "Of course. Did you want to speak to Yokita-san?"

[No, actually it is you that I want to speak to.] Kaiba replied. [I wanted to let you know that I have got an employment contract drafted up for you to go over.]

"Oh... That was fast." I said, not really sure what else to say.

[I'm tied up today and Saturday, but Sunday suits if you'd care to do lunch so we can go over it.]

Jesus Christ. I thought. Another…meeting? ANOTHER meeting! "Sure." I said weakly, feigning confidence. "What time and where?"

[1pm at the Odaiba Estate Gardens suits me.] Of course, it was _always_ about him. Never mind _my_ schedule. Not that I had much of one…

Are you going to ask me to dress nicely this time, too? I thought about saying, but held my tongue. "Alright..." I agreed, slightly stricken. The Odaiba Estate Gardens were one of the most sacred in the country, spreading over hundreds of acres of parkland, and had a beautiful traditional tea house nestled in amongst the trees. "I'll see you there at 1 on Sunday."

[I don't have to ask you to dress nicely this time, do I?]

I couldn't restrain my amusement this time and laughed with childish abandon; it was like he'd read my mind a few seconds earlier. "And why's that? What if I'm secretly a closet-Goth?"

[Then that would make me the Queen of England.] He replied, and I could hear the smile hidden in his voice. [I have to go. See you Sunday.]

"Okay," I replied, feeling a little lightheaded. "See you then."

"Goodbye." Then, dial tone.

After hanging up the phone, I once again morphed into zombie mode, only this time it was my keyboard that I was transfixed upon. Hiromi must have known that something was up, as I had - without realising it - just conversed with Kaiba in English for the entire phone call. It wasn't often that I spoke my first language - at least not at work. I got the impression that Yokita-san felt inferior to me when I did, as he wasn't able to understand me. In retrospect, it was probably a good thing that I had spoken English just then, as Hiromi wouldn't have been able to understand, either. The less she knew, the better.

The rest of the afternoon was spent doing light filing, and since we were quiet, I was allowed to go home a half hour early. I stopped in at McDonalds on the way home, knowing that there wasn't a bite to eat in the house except for maybe yesterday's sushi, which wasn't terribly appealing for a Friday night dinner. After finishing off my McChicken Burger combo - which didn't taste nearly as good as it did at home - I extracted a (small) bottle of Japanese plum wine from my cabinet and nursed it for a while, watching TV, trying to dissolve the thoughts of Seto Kaiba from my mind.

**

"I have something really big to tell you."

"You're pregnant?"

"Jesus, no!" I laughed. "Have you any idea how long it's been since I've been laid?"

"Not since Katsuo, I bet." Seisaki replied, sucking on her cigarette.

Currently Seisaki - the girl whom had landed me my current job - and I were lunching at an upmarket cafe in central Domino late on a Saturday afternoon. It was a hot day, not a cloud in the sky, and the same weather was forecast for tomorrow - Sunday, or, as I had come to calling it, Doomsday.

"You're right about that," I muttered. "Anyway, do you want to hear it, or not?"

"You know it."

I took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I had dinner with Kaiba Seto on Thursday night."

"Bullshit." She stated, matter-of-factly, tapping ash into the ashtray.

"I knew you wouldn't believe me!" I slumped back into my chair.

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Tell me then, how did you come to have a dinner date with Kaiba?"

"He's a new client of Yokita's." I replied. "And, he wants me to work for him."

Seisaki shot me a disbelieving glance, flicking her cigarette butt away. "_Work_ for him? So then, why'd he take you out for _dinner_?"

"I don't really know..." I replied, still unsure. "It was kind of like an interview. I guess he must have thought I was good for the job, because we're having lunch tomorrow so I can have a look at my new contract."

"Too much," she said. "Are you going to take it?"

"I think I'd be stupid not to," I replied, sipping my coffee. "He's offering me double of what I'm on now."

"Shut up!" Seisaki shrieked, mouth hanging open. "Seriously?"

"That's what he said..."

"Kami, you are lucky. You are so damned lucky. What I'd _give_ to get into that guy's pants..."

"Hey," I said sharply. "No-one is getting into anyone's pants, here. These... 'meetings' I guess you'd call them, are just so I can get my new job sorted out."

"So why hasn't he just asked you to come into his office? Literally, come."

"Mind out of the gutter please, Seisaki." I giggled. "I asked him the same thing. He's too busy during business hours to deal with stuff like hiring new staff. Usually he'd get his secretary to do it, but that's the position he's offering, so he kind of had to do it himself."

"I guess that's believable." Seisaki said, still sounding a little doubtful. "Where are you going for lunch tomorrow?"

"The Odaiba Estate Gardens."

"Get out of town!" she shrieked, going saucer-eyed.

"Uh, no." I said. "That's really where we're going."

"What are you going to wear?"

I froze. "Shit,"

"You haven't thought about it yet?! You're gonna have to find something nice, you know."

That was one thing that had I had completely not thought of. This was a classy place I was going to – as in you wouldn't be caught dead in anything less than designer wear, which my wardrobe somewhat lacked. What was I going to wear?! "You got anything I could borrow?"

"Don't be a tight-ass," Seisaki said, rolling her eyes. "Let's just go shopping. We've got all day, don't we?"

"Yeah, but I'm broke."

"Credit card?"

"It's evil."

"But _useable_!" Seisaki said enthusiastically. "I know a place that sells rip-off designer couture; let's go."

And, without more ado, we left.

**

I had to say, one of the upsides to living in Japan was that there was a lot more to see and do than in New Zealand. One of these things happened to be shopping - first probably came eating, but Domino City really was a shopper's paradise. Seisaki had lured me into a little thrift store down one of the many back-alleys that sold just about anything and everything you could think of. This particular shop happened to specialise in fake designer clothing and accessories - but they were good fakes. They had imitations of Louis Vuitton and Gucci handbags that could actually pass for the real deal.

"I think you should wear a dress for tomorrow," Seisaki stated as she pulled out a couple of dresses from a rack nearby. "What do you think of these?"

"I'm going to lunch, not a funeral!" I said. "I don't want black. Something...more feminine, I think."

"How about this, then?" Seisaki pulled out a blush-coloured mini-dress. It was sleeveless and the neckline went across the collarbone in a half-moon shape. A satin ribbon clinched under the bust leaving the skirt billowing out from that point downward, creating an empire-line style that would potentially hide any unsightly bumps or bulges. The skirt was made from a fine silk tulle and the bodice was sheer, almost see-through. "It looks _just_ like Valentino ready-to-wear," she added. "You couldn't get much girlier than this."

I took it from Seisaki's hands and scrutinized it auspiciously. It was beautiful, and just what I had had in mind. "Should I try it on? It's an awfully small size 8..." I said, doubting now as to whether it would actually fit.

"Would you like to try that one on?" The shop assistant came up to us. "It's such a stunning dress; only someone tall and pretty like you would suit it."

I deadpanned inwardly; shop assistants - in any kind of retail shop - often had the habit of sucking up to their customers. She might have just thought that I was tall because I was naturally taller than most Japanese women. I knew, however, I was just an average height for a young Caucasian woman.

"Go on, try it on!" Seisaki encouraged. "Think about it - you're going to the Odaiba Estate _Gardens_ tomorrow."

She couldn't have drilled the place name into my head any harder, so without further hesitation I dashed off to the changing room. Delicately unzipping the back of the dress, I slipped into it and zipped it back up again. The part around the chest was definitely figure-hugging; tight, but not so tight that I felt uncomfortable. I was actually pleasantly surprised with it; it wasn't often that I could wear light colours without looking somewhat bulgy. It fell just short of half-way down my thigh - but not so it looked unsavoury. I blushed to myself as I noticed my skanky black bra showing underneath the sheer chiffon covering my chest; I'd have to do something about that come tomorrow if I decided to go through with buying the dress. I decided to quickly show Seisaki.

"So, what's the verdict?" I asked as I pulled the curtain across.

Seisaki grinned. "Like a glove! Do you love it?"

"Love it?" I queried. "Well, I like it..."

"Then don't buy it."

I was mystified. "Huh? But-"

"If you only like it, find something you love instead, and buy that."

I turned and looked at myself in the mirror. Suddenly the shop assistant hurried over to me. "So beautiful! You look amazing; your brown skin goes so well with this colour!"

I glanced down at my pasty bare legs which hadn't seen sunlight for about three months. I had to remind myself that Japanese girls with porcelain white skin probably thought I was Mexican or something with my slightly olive complexion 'just like your father', or so my mother had told me. How was I to know? I'd never met the guy in my life. "Uh... thank you."

"Here, try on these heels; it might give you a better idea of what you'll look like tomorrow." Seisaki suggested, snatching a pair of heels from a rack nearby and placing them at my feet.

I stepped up into them, towering what felt like six foot - but was probably more so around 5'8" - and examined myself in the mirror. I looked a bit spindly, in my opinion, and probably needed to slap on a coat or five of fake tan when I got home, but otherwise the dress looked fantastic.

"Sold," I muttered, because I really didn't want to be towed around Domino the rest of the day looking for something else. This dress would just have to do.

"Do you need anything else?" Seisaki asked as we exited the shop. "Shoes? Handbag? Facial?"

"I'm not trying to impress him - or anyone else," I said. "I think I've got it covered. My poor credit card won't know what hit it if I buy anything else, today."

"Are you going to wear the dress tonight?"

"Why, what's happening tonight?"

"I think we're all going to the movies."

"By 'all', who do you mean?"

"You, me, Takara, Natsuko, Jei and Katsuo."

My stomach suddenly somersaulted. "Katsuo?"

Seisaki rolled her eyes. "Yes, Katsuo. Don't tell me you don't want to come just because he's going to be there."

"No, it's just... I haven't seen him for a while." I said. "It's not exactly like we ended on good terms, you know."

"I don't think you've got anything to worry about," Seisaki replied. "He's over it, you're over it, so move on. And if things get awkward, then you can leave any time. Or he could."

I sighed a little bit, my mind drifting back to the short period of time that I had spent amorously involved with Katsuo. I was known as the 'gaijin' - which is Japanese for 'foreigner' - at my school when I first arrived. I felt rather out of place; westerners were a minority at Sakomata College and even though I had made friends with some of them, I still felt like an alien. Katsuo was the first guy to put aside my differences and like me for who I was. He didn't care that my Japanese wasn't perfect, that I was taller and had larger eyes than the other girls, or had an accent that was weird to them. He also never used to call me a 'gaijin', which, until I found out what it meant, always confused me and made me feel a little self-conscious.

We remained close friends for the first two years of my attendance at Sakomata College; Katsuo introducing me to his clique. I was accepted into the group surprisingly fast; it wasn't often that the students would allow such a stranger to associate with them, but Katsuo was something of a leader. He was a popular student; bright, funny, handsome, unafraid to speak his mind. His long hair was bleached blonde and he always coiffed it up with a headband or else let it hang around his ears. It was only in my final year of school that something of a romance sparked between Katsuo and myself. The group of us went on a short summer holiday while school was out, to the southern islands of Japan. It was a hot, balmy night, and the six of us had been drinking at our hotel for some hours. Ironically, we were on the discussion of sex - a popular topic, it was - and, having drank too much alcohol, one thing led to another and Katsuo and I ended up in bed together.

Seisaki had said, after we had returned to Domino, that she wasn't all too surprised about the ordeal. Katsuo had apparently set his sights on me some time beforehand. The fling turned into a relationship that lasted for all of six months and then turned sour. It wasn't over anything major - just small things related to cultural differences. His parents didn't like the idea of him dating a white girl, for a start, and after a while he began to comment on how he thought I'd put on weight and should try dieting, which, quite frankly, just pissed me off.

I saw the end of my school year out pretty much on my lonesome. I still hung about with Katsuo and the group, but it wasn't the same. Most of the time I'd spend my lunch hours studying in the library, mainly because I knew I just created tension within the group. The beginning of spring - that is, about a month ago - saw me finishing my final exams and graduating from Sakomata College. Seisaki landed me my job at her father's law firm shortly after I had told her I needed a job to save some money so I could return home.

Wow, I'm really blabbering, aren't I? Sorry, I didn't mean to tell you my entire life story. But that's pretty much my background, in case you were wondering. So now that that's out of the way, let's get back to the story...

"You're right," I said. "What's in the past is in the past. Anyway, it's been over six months since we broke up."

"That's right," Seisaki said, lighting up another cigarette. "You've got more important things to worry about than him."

"Like what?"

"Kaiba," she said with a cheeky smile. "You're gonna knock him for six in that new dress!"

"That's not what I plan on doing, Sei." I replied, starting to get a little bit annoyed. "He's about to become my new boss; I highly doubt he'd want to get into my pants - or for me to try to get into his."

"You didn't know that about Katsuo either, when you first hooked up."

I faltered. This was true, however, no one had ever seen Seto Kaiba with another woman. Was I being completely naïve? "You don't think... He wouldn't... Would he?"

"Hey, the guy's a billionaire." Seisaki muttered with a shrug. "He's probably used to getting what he wants, and that includes women."

"It's not like I'd let him do anything, even if he wanted to." I replied with a touch of dignity.

"Sure you wouldn't." Seisaki said with obvious sarcasm, and glanced at her watch. "I gotta get going, anyway. I'll be at your house at say, 7pm, and we'll meet the others at the cinema, OK?"

"Alright; what are we going to see, by the way?"

"It's called 'The International'." Seisaki replied. "It sounds good. It's got subtitles - not that you'll need them."

I laughed. "Well, I'll see you at my house later on." With that said, we went our separate ways.

**

It was about eleven o'clock by the time we got out from the movie. I had to admit that it was revitalizing to be able to watch a movie in my own language for once. My friends didn't often like going to movies with subtitles. Afterward, we had decided to go to a club in the city for some late-night nibbles and drinks. It was almost 1am at this point and I had consumed what I thought was probably a little too much sake. Seisaki, Takara and Natsuko decided to get up for a dance. Jei, being the sexbag that he was, would never pass up the opportunity to dance with three pretty girls, so followed suit. Katsuo and I were now at the table alone. For the first time that night, I started to feel edgy.

"How are you finding life after school?" He said, in an attempt to be civil.

This surprised me; Katsuo would normally - or so I would have thought – be the stubborn one by refusing to break the ice first. "Fine," I replied. "Starting a new job, soon."

"Really? Where abouts?"

I smirked. "Kaiba Corporation."

What seemed to be both surprise and anger flashed in Katsuo's dark eyes. "You're working for _him_? _That_ jerk?"

"He's not... a jerk," I said, suddenly feeling quite ill. I put down my sake just as the room warped at an odd angle.

Katsuo happened to notice this. "Are you alright? You don't look so good..."

Definitely too much alcohol! I chastised to myself. How could I get drunk the night before something so important? God, how stupid. Stupid, stupid, STUPID! ...

"Hey, Peko, are you OK?"

I glanced up to see Takara, my half-Japanese half-Korean friend who had religiously dyed her hair platinum blonde since the day I met her - I had never seen it any other colour. She had referred to me as "Peko", being short for Pekopeko, which meant 'fawn' in Japanese. I had somehow adopted the nickname due to the fact that my group thought I resembled a baby deer because of my large dark eyes and spindly legs. That - and they couldn't pronounce my English name to save themselves, anyway.

"I... ugghhh...." was all I could manage.

"I'm going to take her home," I vaguely heard Katsuo announce.

There was a murmur of agreement before I was hoisted up off of my chair and dragged out of the club. It wasn't often that I got so wasted that I actually had to lean on someone for support; I guess the sake I had been drinking was stronger than I thought it had been. On the way home I could barely keep my eyes open; I vaguely recalled stepping onto a train and being slumped in Katsuo's arms for the most part of the trip.

When we reached my apartment door, I was about ready to thank Katsuo for escorting me home and be on my drunken merry way, when...

"Do you want me to tuck you into bed?" Katsuo asked with a sly glint in his eyes, sliding his hands onto my hips.

"Huh? No! No thank you." I said, my head clearing for a moment before quickly hazing over again. "Let me go, Kat."

"Come on, baby," he said, gently pressing me against the wall. "For old time's sake…?"

"Katsuo, please." I said. "Stop it."

He put his hands up to my face, and the last thing I remember before his lips closed over mine was a fleeting image in my mind of Seto Kaiba standing in Katsuo's place.

**

Author's note: Sorry that there was no Kaiba-interaction in this chapter, but it was necessary to write to keep the story moulded together. There shouldn't be anymore like this one without any Kaiba sexiness, OK? ^^;; Forgive me! -flees-


	4. Tea

Phantom: Ohayou! Thank you so much for the reviews! You have no idea how much I appreciate them! I'm so glad you're enjoying my story ^_^ I hope it lives up to your expectations and is developing to your liking.

Chapter Four: Tea

**

Isn't it funny how the one thing that all life on Earth depends on can, at the same time, be one of the most evil things in the universe? That thing, namely, was the sun. Right now, it was clawing at my blinds, trying to reach through the cracks and cause splitting pains behind my eyes. An indistinct recollection of last night's events appeared slowly in my mind like a slideshow - movie, night club, dancing, eating, sake, Katsuo, Kaiba...Kaiba? _Oh… shit!_ I thought, scrambling upright in my bed - or what I _hoped_ was my bed. Thankfully there was nobody else in it, and the room I was in was definitely mine, much to my relief.

I looked around again, trying to still the room that was apparently spinning. I noticed I was still fully clothed - only my shoes had been taken off. God knows who did that. There was also a bowl with mysterious contents in it at the side of my bed, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to guess that whatever it was had once been in my stomach. A half-full glass of water was on my bedside cabinet. I looked at my wristwatch; the time was 10.43am. Suddenly I remembered what I was supposed to be doing today.

"Thank GOD I didn't sleep in!" I shrieked loudly to nobody in particular. I got up and stumbled over to my dresser, bracing myself to look in the mirror. Needless to say, I was mortified to see the image staring back at me.

"Fucking hell." I muttered, and slid off my duchess, away from the offensive image. Matted hair, plus smudged eyeliner, plus smeared lip gloss and what looked like dried saliva glued to my face did _not_ equal a good look.

I decided I should probably get moving. The sooner I did that, the sooner I'd feel - and _look_ - better for my rendezvous with Kaiba this afternoon. I was relieved to see that nobody was currently occupying my living room, or any other part of the apartment. After throwing myself in the shower, almost everything from last night became clear to me as I was washing my hair. Maybe the stimulation of massaging my scalp had a waking effect on my otherwise uncertain brain.

"Oh no..." I groaned, remembering what Katsuo and I had done last night. "I hope nothing else happened..." I almost felt annoyed at Seisaki and the others for letting Katsuo take me home; they should have known that he might have tried something on me. Then I decided to let it go; it wasn't anybody's fault except my own. And the sake's.

"Alright," I said to myself with new-found enthusiasm, pulling my new dress out of its bag and ripping off the crepe paper. I held it out in front of me and smiled before putting it on.

So far I had scrubbed my body, washed and conditioned my hair, shaved and tanned my legs, applied my makeup and downed several cups of chrysanthemum tea in attempt to revitalise myself. I had mentally decided to worry about what had happened last night until further notice. Seisaki would no doubt fill me in later anyway. _Today is going to be nice,_ I thought. _I shouldn't let anything ruin it. My future boss will not be able to tell that I'm hungover like a drunken crack whore, OK? OK!_

Midday came around quickly and I figured it was about time I left. Glad that it was a nice warm, breezy day, I made my way down to the subway station and hopped on a train that was headed in the general direction of my destination. The Odaiba Estate Gardens were located on the outskirts of Domino on a 25 acre section. I hadn't been there before, but knew where it was and had seen it featuring in garden magazines quite often.

The train came to a halt about 25 minutes later, leaving me to walk a short distance down the road to my destination. The gardens were infamous for its sakura cherry trees, often hosting a Cherry Blossom Festival each year, and right now the entire driveway was lined with the trees in full bloom. The driveway itself was densely laden with pink blossom petals and, cheesy as it was to say, I felt like a fairytale princess walking down it. At the entrance of the driveway was a stone wall on either side of with "Odaiba Estate Gardens" written in majestic gold kanji affixed to the stone. _Wow, this is posh, _I thought uneasily_. I guess Seisaki was right about having to buy a dress to wear to this place..._

Gingerly, I started to make my way up. At the end of the drive was a three-tiered, circular shaped sandstone fountain gently bubbling away. An assortment of birds bathed in the cool water, chirping noisily in their activity. Beyond that was the grand old homestead - which had once been a house for the people that founded the place - that had now been fashioned into a restaurant. A few swanky cars were parked out the front; chrome and glass and mirrors glinting in the afternoon sun as if to say "look at me; too bad you can't afford it!".

I advanced up the marble steps into the foyer where a waiter politely greeted me. "Good afternoon madam, how can I help you today?"

I was stunned for a moment to realise he was speaking English. That could have been a rather rude presumption, I thought. What if I spoke German? Just because I'm Caucasian doesn't mean I speak English…

"Oh… uh, is there a reservation under the name of Kaiba?"

"There certainly is, please come this way."

Whilst following the waiter through the restaurant, I marvelled at the beauty of the place. Giant Japanese fans and exquisite paintings and cross-stitches of traditional Japanese scenes – such as Mount Fuji, geisha women and men practicing kenjutsu – were hung about the walls. Crisp white tablecloths and crystal wine glasses adorned each table, complete with centrepieces and polished silverware and china tea cups.

The waiter led me through to the outside terrace of the bistro where there was a spectacular view across the gardens. Sheltering my table, which was situated in a corner of the patio, was a giant Japanese umbrella – or _wagasa_ - made from bamboo and silk. Trees that were both native and foreign to Japan shrouded the courtyard. Red maples added a burst of vibrant colour while the English willows made the atmosphere so tranquil with their long limbs sweeping the ground in the gentle breeze.

A waitress clad in traditional Japanese garb – complete with kimono and needles in her hair – daintily placed a teapot on the centre of the table. She bowed and I thanked her, and then, the moment my hand closed around the handle of the teapot, I heard a chorus of voices and other sounds that signalled a commotion outside.

"Kaiba-sama, over here, Kaiba-sama!"

"Smile for the camera, Mr. Kaiba!"

"What do you have planned for your day, Kaiba-sama?"

"Who's the mysterious woman you are allegedly seeing, now?"

"Please respect our customer's privacy!" a somewhat louder voice boomed over the tumult.

I felt my face become hot as soon as I heard the uproar of reporters, photographers and paparazzi outside. I knew that Kaiba was a well-known star both locally and nationally, but I didn't quite expect him to be the type that got followed around 24/7 being constantly hounded. A bizarre image of Kaiba shaving his head and attacking a car with an umbrella suddenly came to mind and I laughed out loud, attracting a few odd stares from other restaurant-goers at nearby tables.

"You're not mocking me too, are you?"

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing," I said with a delighted smile as Kaiba was escorted to our table.

Sitting down, I could tell that he was scrutinizing me, trying not to make it appear too obvious. Inquisitive blue eyes wandered from my face downward, momentarily stopping at my breasts, before continuing. I felt somewhere between being visually violated and flattered at the same time.

We nodded our thanks to the waitress as she poured us cups of tea and handed us our menus. Kaiba quickly skimmed over it and ordered a warm lamb and hokkien noodle salad. I chose a Thai-style salad with a chilli and lemongrass dressing. The waitress scuttled off back to the kitchen after taking our orders.

"Here is your contract," Kaiba said, getting straight to the point as he took a clear-file out of his briefcase. "You can take it home and read over it, if you wish. Otherwise you can read it and sign it here, today."

"No time like the present," I replied with a shrug.

Kaiba nodded. "Go ahead," When he spoke English it seemed that he had a slight American thickness to his pronunciation. I assumed this was because he had learnt the language by listening to Americanized tapes or programs designed to help with learning it. Aside from that, his English was practically flawless.

"Looks good to me," I said as I finished reading the usual clauses in the contract. "I will have to give Yokita-san two weeks notice though; you know that, right?"

Kaiba nodded. Of course he knew – he was one of the most notorious businessmen in Japan, if not the world. He knew how these things worked.

"There you go then, signed and sealed." I said as I scribbled my signature at the bottom.

"Good," Kaiba said as he also signed and dated it. "I expect you will hand in your resignation in the next few days."

"Yes, of course. I'm looking forward to this new job." I said, trying not to sound _too_ jolly. "But, I must ask you, Kaiba… There must be more to hiring me than just a good cup of coffee, surely?"

He leaned back in his chair as the waitress returned with our meals. "That all depends on what you're asking," he said.

Again with the mysteriousness! "Well… what I mean is, the staff at your company probably have the highest qualifications you can possibly obtain. I only graduated from high school last year. So, why me?"

"I guess you could say…having character is more the trait I go for in employees rather than being academic." He replied in a sort of robotic fashion.

I cocked my head. "Care to elaborate?"

He shrugged. "Call it intuition. I feel you have potential and could bring something to my company."

I felt my entire body flush. This wasn't the type of Seto Kaiba I was used to hearing about, the Seto Kaiba who remained apathetic in most given situations. To hear him complimenting someone other than himself would be akin to getting blood out of a stone. You never saw photographs of him in the paper smiling or enjoying himself, either. He was always walking briskly, averting his eyes from the camera. This was a more relaxed Kaiba, I realised, and wondered why. Maybe he was just like this when he wasn't under the scrutiny or pressure of the public eye.

"Well, thank you." I spoke as I found my voice again. "What sort of 'character' do I have, though?"

"You have a sense of humour," he said matter-of-factly. "A lot of my employees are so intimidated by me that they seem to lose their sense of self. But…you don't."

"How am I different? Apart from not being Japanese, of course," I laughed.

He smiled a little and refilled our cups of tea. "You don't change around me… At least, I don't think you do. You don't get anxious, or try to impress me, like most people."

I had to say, it felt nice to hear that. I swelled with pride. "Thank you." I said. "I'm sure we will enjoy working together."

After we had finished our lunch, the remainder of the afternoon was spent wandering around the gardens. I had visited many gardens in Japan in the time I had been living here, but none quite as beautiful as these. Giant swaying willows caressed the surfaces of lily ponds with hundreds of white lilies adorning them. Sakura trees were weighed down with the sheer abundance of pink blossoms on their boughs with vines of clematis twining around their trunks. Eventually we made our way back to the car park, in which a few desperate paparazzi were still hanging around. They sprung to life as soon as we came into view.

"I don't think it's such a good idea that we leave together with these vultures around," Kaiba muttered in distaste, gesturing to the frantic photographers, but not looking at them.

"I understand," I said, realising suddenly that I would probably become something of a Z-grade celebrity once I started working for Kaiba Corporation. "Thank you for lunch."

"Welcome." He replied as he walked to his car. "I'll be hearing from you in the next fortnight then, I assume."

"I'll call you once I know what date I'm leaving Yokita Takenouchi," I replied, looking down and smoothing the ruffles in my dress.

"Alright," he said as he reached for my hand and shook it – firmly but gently – in a business-like manner. "Take care."

"And you." I replied, my hand feeling strangely tingly after the handshake.

The horde of photographers swarmed the tall man as he advanced toward his black Mercedes Benz, fighting them off. Without a word, Seto Kaiba ignited the engine and roared off down the driveway, leaving a cloud of pink sakura petals trailing behind. The paparazzi looked defeated as they packed up their cameras and headed back toward their vehicles, shaking their heads and cursing. As I made my own way back down the drive toward the road I heard them muttering under their breath remarks such as "bastard is always so hard to get a decent shot of", or, "if only she had gotten in the car with him". I rolled my eyes in distain. No wonder celebrities loathed them. They really were like vultures, circling and waiting for the kill.

_Well, this is the beginning of a whole new… __**beginning**_, I thought to myself as I waited for my train. _No more being the office-bitch. No more crappy wage. No more being looked down on or poked fun at by Hiromi. Not in two weeks' time, anyway. My whole life is about to change!_ I thought excitedly.

Oh, if only I had known what changes this new life was going to bring.

**


	5. Frappuccino

Phantom: Thank you to all of those who added my story to their alerts, and to those few who have reviewed. It really does inspire me ^^ Here's a wee teaser for the up and coming chapters. Merry Christmas all!

Chapter 5: Frappuccino

*+*

It was September and the drop in temperature was already noticeable. Generally the weather didn't start to cool until October, but Japan was notorious for its wild and unpredictable changes. Kaiba had gone to Europe for a three-week vacation with Mokuba during the summer. The day he had called me at the office just so happened to be my birthday, in which I had casually mentioned to him. I must admit, I almost fell down in shock when he returned with a grey Michael Kors trench coat with fox fur trim as a birthday gift for me from London. Talk about a job perk!

Working for Kaiba Corporation was fantastic, but, as all jobs do, it had its down sides. I found myself coming in on weekends occasionally to finish my work; there was just that much to be done. Kaiba had been under so much pressure one week that he had lashed out at me Gordon Ramsay-style and had quite literally made me cry – on more than one occasion – in which I'm sure he felt bad about, but never made a move to apologise for. He had been abnormally nice to me after that awful week was over. On good days, however – which were most days – whenever I went to fetch him a coffee or a snack he would tell me to help myself as well, and to put it on the account at his favourite café. Soon it went without saying.

Having worked at Kaiba Corp. now for almost six months, I pretty much had my job honed to a fine art. I knew Kaiba's moods like the back of my hand; knew when not to disturb him, whether or not to joke with him if he was stressed out over something. I learned how to organise my own schedule as well as his and how to really be on top of my game. I was earning fantastic money and, truth be told, I was absolutely loving it. I could afford fabulous designer clothes and cosmetics, dinners out, rounds of drinks with my friends were usually on me and, what's more, I had enough money saved to go home for Christmas already.

Deep inside my mind, I knew I didn't want to return home permanently after my contract ran out – it all depended on the decision of Kaiba's former secretary, of course. A lot of mothers opted not to go back to work, or had more children. If she was to come back, it wouldn't be for another six months, however, but the thought of having to leave when or if the time came was still rather bleak.

Over the months, there had been parties. Mokuba's 15th birthday bash at the Kaiba Estate was one of them – being that only a bunch of his friends and I were invited. Some of Mokuba's friends, to my surprise, were around my own age. I recognized them vaguely from being in Kaiba's Duel Monster tournament about four or five years ago. Most of them were very friendly and seemed curious about me, especially an attractive young man with golden blond hair named Jounouchi Katsuya. We had chatted for a while and exchanged numbers before he left.

"You don't want anything to do with him." Kaiba mentioned over a glass of wine at his manor later that night, after Mokuba had fallen asleep on the couch after too much beer.

"With who?"

"Jounouchi,"

I was puzzled. "Why not?"

Kaiba sipped his wine. "You're too good for him."

I coloured. "Um… It's not like I want to date him or anything. He seems like a nice person."

"Still. Let's just say…you're Lady, and he's the Tramp." Kaiba smirked, but the look of resentment on his face thereafter was evident.

It was at that moment that I realised something was different. Had I been completely naïve all this time? Or had I got the wrong end of the stick? The moment I had shown interest in Jounouchi – as a friend, might I add – Seto Kaiba had changed. Nobody expressed apparent jealousy (even if it was slight) for no reason at all; so, if my calculations were correct, Kaiba had reacted bitterly that I had shown interest in another male besides him.

Was he just being childish? I thought. Or was it something more? Did he genuinely feel protective of me when it came to other men? Maybe it was just Jounouchi. I had read press about the two having bad blood, but you'd think after a few years they would have gotten over it. Kaiba had never had a problem with me interacting with the other male employees, so why did his feathers apparently become ruffled when it came to Jounouchi Katsuya?

As it turned out, Jounouchi and I had absolutely nothing in common, anyway. We had met for a drink a few days after Mokuba's birthday and the date lasted all of about an hour. I discovered that he had no real life ambition in mind and that he was striving to become an elite duelist which, in my opinion, wasn't exactly a reliable career. He still lived with his father, had no plans to travel abroad or, well… _anything_, it seemed. Since I never heard back from him after that night, I assumed I wasn't his cup of chai, either. Kaiba had been mildly amused when I told him of the disastrous evening.

*+*

"My office, now."

It was just after lunch, and I had been half-expecting this called-for meeting. The construction of Kaiba's proposed Duel Monsters museum was nearing completion and, as always, there had to be some kind of grand opening. Kaiba never did things by halves - owning a custom-made private jet designed in the approximate shape of a Blue Eyes White Dragon for one thing, and then hosting the Battle City Tournament on a _blimp_ of all things – just to name a few. His style was outrageous, over the top, and he had a mindset to impress with his creativity and innovation. And impress he did - not only with his company's success, his intelligence and innovation, but as a global icon and role model to young duelists and entrepreneurs the world over.

He wouldn't stop striving to become the best until he had crushed all competition in his path - which he had done, and was continuing to do so, successfully at an alarming rate. His only real rival had been, and still is to a degree, the mastermind behind Duel Monsters itself – Pegasus J. Crawford - but even Kaiba had become more infamous for the game and technology than Pegasus himself. He already claimed ownership to title of the throne of the duel monster business world.

This latest project of his had been under way for the past six months - the Duel Monster museum. As usual, Kaiba preferred the element of surprise and thus the name of the construction was top secret information, only to be revealed on the grand opening night. I gathered that, as his executive, even _I_ wasn't cool enough to be disclosed the mystery name, so tried not to let it bother me. All the work I had been doing on it over the past few months had merely been known as "Operation Seahorse" which I found ironic as Kaiba's name roughly translated to exactly that in English (he did not find this amusing, in case you were wondering). I wondered vaguely if Mokuba was in on it, and then figured that it was most likely because if the kid hadn't been allowed to know, he would have found a way. He was just too curious for his own good, sometimes.

"So, what's new?" I asked as I took a seat opposite his desk, sipping on my toffee-nut flavoured frappuccino from Starbucks. (Yes, they had brought out their festive-season flavoured frappuccinos and I was excited.)

"As you are well aware, Operation Seahorse is almost complete. I am planning on holding the grand opening in a fortnight, followed by an after-party, for which you will be organising." He said, in full business-mode at this point.

"Me?!" I shrieked, my frappuccino almost coming out my nose. "Why can't you get an event planner?"

"Because I want you to do it, and what I say goes." he firmly reminded me.

I tried not to glower. "You're going to have to give me special instructions."

"All here." He slapped a few pages in front of me.

I skimmed over it – there were a few notes in his classy handwriting on exactly how he planned the grand opening to go. It was to be held in the evening, and the entire building was to be sheathed under the disguise of a sheet made from some kind of silky material. Then would come the speech from Kaiba, followed by the unveiling, and then a short display of fireworks. After the initial speech and cutting of the ribbon, champagne would be offered to the estimated 250 guests along with finger food atop silver platters, as everyone wandered around the museum to gape at all the amazing new things that Kaiba had put together for them to feast their eyes on.

I still wasn't entirely sure what the whole project entailed exactly, but I presumed that all these late nights Kaiba had been spending at Kaiba Corporation meant he had been working on something pretty special in the testing lab and arena. No doubt he would be showcasing his inventions, from the very earliest Duel Disk creation to the later, more refined models. I also imagined there would be some kind of merchandise and souvenir shop for which to buy said duel disks, and probably other Kaiba-related crap too (you'd be surprised at how his collection of trench coats and belts took off).

"This all looks great, but, it looks like you've already figured everything out." I said bluntly.

"For the opening, I do." He replied, entwining his fingers. "Your job is to plan the function afterwards. It will be held at Club Yazai, starting at 9pm. I'll leave the rest up to you."

I cocked an eyebrow. Leaving me to arrange a party was rather foolish, on his part. "As you wish."

"I want your report on this back to me by 5pm for approval, so you better start making inquiries."

Why did he have to always sound so threatening? "On it."

On the way back to my office, I fathomed as to how to go about this newest task. There would be several things I was going to need to arrange – a DJ, food, a bar tab (and the expenditure), goodie bags, furniture for seating arrangements, balloons, banners and decorations, and perhaps some other kind of entertainment. If Kaiba had left this to me, then there was really nothing he could complain about…because he had _told_ me to organise it. Therefore, maybe I could really spice things up a bit…Cage dancers! Magicians! Fire eaters! Acrobats! Strobe lights! Oh yes, and those were only a _few_ of the things my warped mind could come up with. All I knew was one thing – that this after-party was in no way going to be related to Duel Monsters _whatsoever_.

*+*


	6. Cosmopolitan

Phantom: Squee! Thanks muchly for your reviews and story-alert ads! I really appreciate them, as always. Joyeux Noel everyone! =^-^=

Chapter 6: Cosmopolitan

**

"Oh my God, I can't believe I'm meeting Seto Kaiba tonight."

"Shut up, we're going to be late."

"But I need to look sexy! First impressions and all, right?"

"I really don't think he's going to care."

Seisaki glared at me. "And why is that?"

I shrugged. "I don't think he has a sex life. Or, if he does, he keeps it real quiet."

"Well, we're about to find out! Don't worry; I'll give you _all_ the details." Seisaki replied arrogantly, winking at me to let me know she was joking. My mind queried as to whether she really was joking, or not.

I rolled my eyes and applied a slick of lipgloss. "Come on, we really can't waste anymore time, Sei-chan. He doesn't tolerate tardiness."

Kaiba had reluctantly allowed me to invite a friend (which in retrospection I wondered if this was a wise idea now) so of course I asked Seisaki to come. She was a super-uber-mega-ultra-awesome fan of Kaiba himself, and I would get kicks out of seeing her try to glomp him, and there was nothing I could do – or _he_ could do, for that matter – to stop her. This served as only a small portion of my sick entertainment for the night. Alcohol would take care of the rest.

Our train arrived about a block from where the surprise development was located. It was a mild late summer evening in September, and Seisaki and I were able to let loose in bare legs, floaty dresses and tousled, carefree hair. Complete with stilettos, of course. It _was_ a party, after all, and my tootsies did not go to parties unless they were clad in stilettos (Manolo Blahnik's tonight, in case you were wondering). Seisaki had primped herself to the point of no return with her signature dead-straight, blunt-fringed black hair, red lips and dark "come hither" eyes, in hope to seduce Kaiba. I had to laugh. Though I'd never yet seen Kaiba with another woman in _that_ way before, that could very well change tonight. Seisaki was a knockout and thoroughly made me look like a wallflower. I doubted there would be a man able to resist her.

I was amazed at the sheer volume of people outside the building disguised under the dark blue covering. Kaiba had expected there to be about 250 invited guests, along with other members of the public who were to pay a small fee upon entrance. I gathered that there were possibly over a thousand people here already. There was a large red ribbon hung across what I assumed were the front doors to the building. A helicopter hummed somewhere overhead, no doubt capturing footage. Kaiba and Mokuba were standing on the podium up the front with some security guards and other officials, about ready to commence the speech. Kaiba stepped up to the microphone and suddenly everyone hushed and turned to face him. I admired the fact that his mere presence demanded attention.

"Oh my God, there he is! That's your boss!" Seisaki cried, on the verge of hysteria. "_God_… He. Is. Totally. Sexalicious."

I snorted at Sei's choice of words. But…I couldn't really disagree. Being that it was a warm night, Kaiba had opted for a low-key, casual approach with stonewash bootcut denim jeans that were slightly faded on the front (no doubt some kind of designer brand like Diesel); square-toed crocodile skin dress shoes and a blue pinstriped shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A sleek white tie finished the look. Around his neck I could see he still wore the locket with Mokuba's picture in it, tucked into his shirt. A diamond and platinum Rolex watch adorned his left wrist. And, as usual, not one strand of brunet hair on his head was out of place.

"Thank you for showing tonight at the Grand Opening of my latest venture," Kaiba began. "As you most probably know, I have been working on a new project over the past few months, and tonight, it shall be revealed!" he queued for applause, building up the anticipation in his audience.

The helicopter took its cue and hovered low over the roof of the structure, letting down a hook to grasp the cover. Once it engaged, it drifted back up, sliding the tarp up off the glass.

Kaiba's eyes blazed with excitement, charisma, and something more – a hunger for the attention, for the acknowledgement that he had done good. He thirsted for it. Craved it. Like he almost yearned for the acceptance, admiration and praise of others. As much as he loathed the public eye, he also thrived off it.

"Welcome, everyone, to _Duel Emporium_!" he finally boomed, throwing his arms up in the air and turning to face his latest new enterprise. He really _was_ all about the drama, and I dimly thought in that moment that he would make a good reality TV show host, absurd as that thought might be.

The moment Kaiba spoke the name, the helicopter swung completely away and out of view, lifting the veil from the building. The crowd erupted into cheering and applause as the structure was revealed – a giant glass tower built roughly in the shape of Obelisk the Tormentor, with a bronze sculpture of Slifer the Sky Dragon perched atop, its spiked tail curling around the building all the way to the ground. Then the fireworks took off, wheeling high up into the sky and exploding into beautiful shapes and colours. I stood agape for a moment, wondering how in the 9 Hells he was able to find an architect to construct a building of this shape and size. The Slifer dragon sculpture was the icing on the cake. Kaiba probably drafted the blueprints himself, no doubt, but it was nonetheless gob-smacking. He never ceased to amaze me – or anyone else, it seemed.

He stood up there now with his arms crossed, smirking self-righteously down at his audience who was - to put it lightly – going into raptures. Young duelists, fans and businesspeople alike were bursting at the barriers wanting to be let in. Kaiba then cut the sash and announced that Duel Emporium was open to the public, and everyone rushed in, jamming themselves through the open doors. Seisaki and I waited for the horde to clear and then, once we were finally through, honed in on the champagne. I thought it might be wise to sidle up to Kaiba once he got a free moment to congratulate him on his latest venture that we had both worked so hard at over the past few months. It already seemed to be a hit.

"Oh my God, what am I going to say to him?!"

"Stop saying 'oh my God'!" I hissed at Seisaki as we advanced on my boss. "Just be cool." I tried not to laugh. The incessant fangirls never ceased to entertain me, either.

"But he's so fucking _hot_." Seisaki whined. "Look at that _arse_! I think I'm going to have an orgasm just looking at him."

At that particular moment I was so grateful I didn't have champagne in my mouth, for a just about burst a blood vessel from laughing so hard. "_Seisaki_!" I shrieked after I'd got my breath back. "That is so obscene. Why don't we go for a wander and come back to him later when he's not so busy?"

"Uh-uh." Seisaki disagreed. "I want him, and I want him now." With that said, the determined woman strode right up to him and tapped his shoulder. I looked on in horror as Kaiba looked down at her over his shoulder – obviously annoyed – then across to me, and then back to her. I sighed heavily and made a beeline toward what looked like an investor that Kaiba had previously been talking to before Sei's vulgar interruption.

"I'm sorry about her," I apologised immediately, bowing my head to the superior man. "She's a fan of his. I really should have kept her on a leash."

The elder man smiled and shook his head. "No matter. You are?"

"Kaiba's secretary; nice to meet you." I replied, taking his hand. Names weren't always important.

"I see, well, give him my card, will you? I'm interested in buying some shares in Kaiba Corporation. This would make an excellent addition to my portfolio." he added, gesturing to the place and handing me his business card.

"I'll be glad to." I replied, knowing the card would all but end up in the recycling.

"Enjoy your evening."

"You, too."

And that, my friend, is how you soft-soap a businessman.

"Oh my God! Like, can I have your autograph or something?"

Completely ignoring Seisaki, Kaiba turned to me with a less-than-impressed glare. "You brought a _fangirl_? What did I say about fangirls?"

I sighed. "Oh, come on. Just sign her boob or something and she'll leave you alone."

Kaiba's eyes widened at the improper suggestion and his cheeks coloured a little. I didn't think he was quite expecting that, being the first-class gentleman (albeit arrogant) that was his usual demeanour. Seisaki waggled her eyebrows suggestively and handed him a marker she had kept in her clutch for exactly this purpose. The man exhaled irritably and took the pen, grabbed her arm and signed the inside of it – a more appropriate place, I had to say. I faintly wondered what Kaiba _would_ do if Seisaki happened to pop a tit out for him – and that was something she probably would do, too. I sweatdropped at the thought. Seisaki then thanked him for signing her arm, bowed, and erupted into schoolgirl-esque giggles.

With that said and done, I swigged back the last of my champagne and handed her my glass. "The next round is on you. Go on."

"Sure thing! Thanks, Kaiba-sama." she cried, but not before glomping him in what looked like a asphyxiating fashion, and then dashed off.

"I can't believe you call that… _thing_ your _friend_." Kaiba mentioned dryly, brushing himself off.

"You said I could bring a friend, and I didn't know she was a fangirl, honest." I replied casually, trying not to grin.

Blue eyes narrowed. "Whatever. I get the feeling you're going to start abusing your position as my secretary from now on. Perhaps I should word what I say to you more carefully."

"Perhaps you should." I could no longer hold back the grin. Then, gesturing to the atrium we were currently standing in, I said, "This is really a hit. You never fail to impress…I really had no idea that you were putting so much work into this." I added, knowing Kaiba took well to admiration. That ought to butter him up a little after Seisaki's assault.

He nodded his thanks brusquely, though I knew inside he was glowing. "I trust you have the after-function all organised?"

"Yes. The venue can only hold about 300 max, though."

"Only 250 invites went out, anyway. You never did inform me of our expenditure for that." Kaiba replied. He began to walk, so I followed.

I cringed, knowing he had given me a budget of $50,000 US, which equated to something like 4.5 million yen. I had seriously tried to stick to it, but it was difficult; I'd had to make sacrifices which, unfortunately, meant no acrobats. That made me sad.

"I put 10K US on the bar." I said, which I thought was reasonable. "The rest was for entertainment and the actual hire of the place wasn't cheap, either."

"It's alright. I trust you, and you didn't blow the budget, so you're safe…for now."

"Thanks." I smiled briefly to myself and wondered if he actually meant that – the trusting part, that is.

We wandered around Duel Emporium for a while together, Seisaki managing to find her way back to me with another glass of Moet & Chandon in hand. I gathered that the novelty of getting to meet Kaiba in the flesh wore off after a while as she apparently became tremendously bored of our chit-chat – mostly about work – and started talking to other random people instead. I took great interest in the giant stone tablets that were mounted in glass cases on the walls that had once been at the Domino Museum. The exhibit did not attract as many visitors as it did back in the days of Kaiba's Battle City Tournament, and was due to head back to its homeland of Egypt. That was until Kaiba decided to showcase them as part of his venture.

I knew he didn't believe in the hocus-pocus illusions that had been part of the tournament, and the whole "Millennium Items" fad that Yuugi Motou had brought about. Seto Kaiba was a facts and figures man, dealing with the tangible and earthly facts in front of him. He was not one for magic tricks or fairytales and this became quite apparent during his tournament. He put it all down to smoke and mirrors, and even, at one stage, hallucinations, which are where the drug-addict rumours came about. I didn't look into it too much myself – I wasn't a huge fan of the game albeit working for Kaiba Corporation, which was ironic, but I guess you could say I was at an amateur level of dueling. I could play the game, and understood the fundamentals, but I didn't own a deck nor did I practice it.

The only reason Kaiba had decided to display the stone tablets was, of course, for revenue. It all came back down to money, with him, and at the end of the day, he did what he thought necessary to gain it. The success of Kaiba Corporation came second only to his and Mokuba's health and safety.

I realised, as we walked, that no expense had been spared with this assignment – absolutely everything related to Duel Monsters was right here in this shrine. Everything from cards, ancient Egyptian scriptures and state-of-the-art game technology to Kaiba's own personal line of merchandise was featured here. This had to be one of his best enterprises yet, after Kaiba Corporation, that is. It was his life's work, all under one roof. He really should have named it "Kaiba Emporium", I thought, but perhaps he didn't want it to be all about himself this one time.

"Oh, Kaiba-booooy, _there_ you are!"

Kaiba and I turned around to see a tall man in a dashing red suit, standing with his arms folded. Long, silvery white hair framed his narrow face and fell about his shoulders, sheathing one of his eyes. The other eye, a dark liquid honey colour, scrutinized us both. A very young (too young for him, anyway) blonde girl stood at his side, loosely clutching one of his arms. She looked all of 17.

Kaiba nodded to the man. "Pegasus." And, barely acknowledging the teenage girl, "Rebecca."

"Hmph." She sniffed in a childlike tone, and looked away.

Of course. That's where I'd seen him before. The creator of duel monsters itself – CEO of Industrial Illusions, Pegasus J. Crawford. I shrank back a little; this guy was as mad as a two-bob watch, and set me on edge, even though I'd never met him in the flesh. I'd heard the horror stories and read the press. Pegasus had tried to take on Kaiba on several occasions, usually losing. It was obviously some kind of male-rival kind of thing, being that they were both experts in their chosen field, but it was a case of the pupil surpassing the master – and in this case Kaiba had stepped up from pupil status to becoming his very _own_ master. Pegasus, I guessed, didn't take kindly to this. There was also the fact that Pegasus had tried and failed many a time to take over Kaiba Corp., which in hindsight I now found rather uproarious. This crack-headed clown couldn't take over a paper _bag_ if he tried, by the look of him.

"My, my. You really have outdone yourself this time, haven't you Kaiba-boy?"

Kaiba smirked. "I thought you'd just love to come and bask in my glory, is all."

Pegasus didn't seem irked by this. "I wouldn't _dream_ of passing up the chance to meet with you again, Kaiba-boy. It's been a while."

Had I missed something here? "You _invited_ this creep?" I quipped.

Kaiba's eyes slid down to look at me. "Just let me do the talking."

"I see you have yourself a little girlfriend, now, Kaiba. How _fabulous_! After all this time being on your own… When do you wed?"

"What the _hell_?" I remarked. _That_ was completely hit and miss! Where had this fag gotten _that_ idea from?

"I said let _me_ do the talking." Kaiba grunted, and folded his arms, looking back to the silver-haired man. "Not that my personal life is any of your business, Pegasus, but she is my assistant." He finished frostily.

"Oh no? That's a shame." He sounded genuinely disappointed. "She's such a _doll_. Look at that _gorgeous_ glossy hair! You simply _must_ tell me what products you use!"

I thought I heard Kaiba snort.

"Um…excuse me." I said, putting my hands up, feeling entirely uncomfortable in front of this fruity loser, but at the same time trying to be polite. "I'm gonna go. I'll see you at Yazai." I muttered to Kaiba before bowing to Pegasus and then making a hasty retreat.

Later on, after Seisaki and I had done the rounds at Duel Emporium, we made our way over to Club Yazai. The party was just getting started at the time we arrived – and I was pleased with what I saw. The venue had been decked out just how I'd told them I wanted it, and exactly the kind of music I'd requested was being played. People queued up at the bar to take advantage of the free alcohol, and already a few game party-goers were up dancing. Frankly, I couldn't wait to douse down some more alcohol and start cutting shapes on the dance floor as well.

As I looked around, I noticed there were indeed the scantily-clad cage-dancers I had requested (for Kaiba's viewing pleasure perhaps, and also because I wanted to see his reaction – not to mention Mokuba's – to my slightly perverse idea of entertainment), along with fire-breathers and funky-looking conjurors pulling magic tricks to both stun and amaze.

Upon entry Seisaki and I received a goodie-bag for which I had also come up with the idea of. These included sample perfumes, an iPod, vouchers for Kaiba Corporation merchandise, chocolates, a designer-brand keychain, luxury beauty and cosmetic items for both men and women, and condoms – just for kicks. Nothing quite like the prize-packs for celebrities at the Oscars who get given their free holidays to Mexico, surround-sound stereo systems, 18 carat gold jewel-encrusted vibrators and 43" high definition TV's, but it was something.

I noticed Otogi Ryuuji just exiting the dance floor with a slightly taller brunet boy in tow, and Seisaki immediately got stars in her eyes. They were headed out onto the outdoor terrace.

"Oh my god, it's Otogi Ryuuji, that guy that owns Black Crown! I'm going outside for a cigarette. Wanna come with?" she asked, once again in fangirl mode.

"Nah, I'll stay put. I've got some more drinking to do, yet." I grinned.

She shook her head. "You and your alcohol."

I shook my head back in travesty. "You and your cigarettes."

She pulled a face at me and left, so I turned to the bar and ordered myself a raspberry cosmopolitan. I sat up at one of the bar stools, sipping my cocktail, grooving with the rhythm of the music. This was definitely my kind of scene. I could see this party going on into the wee hours of the morning, if not until sunrise – that was for sure. I dimly wondered what Kaiba would be like if he were to become inebriated. Would he even allow himself that much? It was _his_ function. Surely he could let loose a little…

"I said he's with _me_, you fool."

Somewhere near the entrance I could hear his voice.

"I am Seto _Kaiba_, and this is _my_ function!"

Throwing his weight around, as per usual.

"He _is_ accompanied by an adult – _me_! You want to see my ID? _Ugh_. Here."

Finally, Seto and Mokuba Kaiba made it past the bouncers looking thoroughly unimpressed, and I had to chuckle. It wasn't often Kaiba got denied anywhere. Mokuba spotted me and ran up.

"Would you like a beverage, my child? Perhaps of the alcoholic variety?" I grinned sinfully, luring him in.

Kaiba glared at me. "You're a bad influence."

I shrugged. "Guilty as charged."

"Hey! Sure, a beer sounds good. Seto?" The teen looked at his older brother with pleading eyes.

"You're fif_teen_."

"Oh, come on Kaiba. Surely you can remember the first time you got drunk?" I coaxed. He just glared harder at me.

"You let me drink on my _birthday_, Seto!" Mokuba fired his ammunition.

"Fine, but if you're drunk by the time we leave, you will live to regret it. Not to mention you're a minor."

I shuddered to think of the punishments that Kaiba had in mind for his younger brother's misbehaviour. Like the time my step-father made me smoke a whole packet of cigarettes when I was 14 after catching me out. I don't think I'd ever been so sick in my life. Then again, it was a successful strategy – I'd not touched them since.

"Don't worry, Seto. I'll be responsible." Mokuba said, flashing that heartbreaking smile.

The elder brother sighed and ordered two Coronas with a lime wedge in each, handing one to Mokuba. He looked around the club, observing everything that he knew I had produced in the way of entertainment and the like. He frowned critically at the cage-dancers and raised an eyebrow at the magicians and fire-breathers, but otherwise he seemed content. I thought that perhaps I had done a good job, and deserved a pat on the back. There wasn't anything remotely duel monster- or work-related here, and I had longed to see Kaiba out of his comfort zone for so long. Then again, I didn't know what he got up to on his weekends or days off – but if Mokuba's word was anything to go by, it was probably just more work. Getting to see him relax a bit in a place that I figured he might find a little uncomfortable in was a perplexingly interesting treat, but he seemed perfectly at ease. Maybe he visited strip clubs and circuses during his time off, who knows?

"This party is totally awesome!" Mokuba appraised. "You've done a great job organising it. Hasn't she, Seto?"

I chuckled quietly to myself at the way Mokuba always dug at Kaiba to praise me. Every time I managed to complete some kind of assignment, he would always poke and prod at Kaiba to make him at least acknowledge my efforts.

"Yes, Mokuba." Kaiba replied, then turned to me. "This is why I didn't hire an event planner." And then he walked away.

"O…kay?" I said to nobody in particular, watching him walk off. I guess that was his way of complimenting me.

Mokuba gave me the thumb's up and a wink before trailing off after his elder brother. I shook my head and downed the last of my cosmo just as the bar tender came up. "Same again," I grinned.

"Make that two," Seisaki panted as she came running up.

"How's it going, Sei?"

"Freaking awesome! You should throw parties like this more often!" she cried.

I sweatdropped. "This was all put on Kaiba's credit card, you know. Which has a much, _much_ larger limit than mine."

"I know, but, you know what I mean! Oh, I got Otogi Ryuuji's number, can you believe it?"

"That's great, Sei."

"His friend over there wants yours, too." Seisaki said, nodding in the direction of Otogi and his friends.

"Which one?"

"With the brown hair; his name is Honda-san."

I blanched. "Err…yeah…nah, I think I'm good."

Seisaki giggled. "Alright, whatever you say. Now let's knock these back and get up for a dance!"

"Now, that, I _can_ do."

**


	7. High

Phantom: Hello all! Hope you have all seen in the New Year well. I have just returned from Thailand and am jetlagged to hell, having not slept for 30 hours or so, so I am endeavouring to post this chapter for your entertainment purposes, and then crash! :D Please post your comments, I LOVETH them! ^^

Chapter 7: High

**

By midnight the party was raging out of control. Brawls had broken out and been broken up; people had been busted for snorting cocaine in the toilets (and no, it wasn't Seisaki), people were falling over drunk everywhere – spraining ankles, spilling drinks and the like; but, most of all, people were hooking up in the most unsavoury of ways in all corners of the club. Kaiba had his bouncers throw out most of the troublemakers, including (as dismayed as I was to see it) Seisaki and Otogi getting a little _too_ frisky – shall we say – in one of the booths. Honda, on the other hand, hadn't even attempted to make advances on me (to my relief) and was instead dancing with an auburn-haired girl who I believe was supposed to be Jounouchi Katsuya's younger sister.

Two rather effeminate looking guys – one with beautiful bronzed skin and platinum blonde hair, the other with alabaster white skin and equally ashen hair – were also making out and grinding obscenely and were subsequently thrown out. Mokuba, on the other hand, had become a stumbling drunk and by 1am had been escorted up the stairs to one of the corporate boxes so he could lie down (or go into a coma; one of the two). Kaiba, it seemed, had not been keeping an eye on him, being that he, too, was too busy knocking back the beers.

For those of us who were left standing – well, those who were not entirely intoxicated, high, horny, exiled, arrested or all of the above – were still carving up the dance floor, myself included. I couldn't have asked for a better DJ for the night – the songs he was pulsing out were exactly the kind to set the mood of dancing and partying. Both eastern and western artists were thumping out great beats, and everyone was getting their freak on with their dance moves. One young woman who I vaguely recognised as being a friend of Yuugi Motou's was an incredibly fit dancer and had a lot of the young men mesmerized by her moves. Apart from Mokuba earlier on in the night, my only other main dance partner had been Seisaki, but since she'd recently been kicked out, I decided to hunt down some fresh prey.

I spotted Kaiba leaning against the balcony overlooking the club watching everyone dancing. His eyes and mine connected and, with a little Dutch courage, I gave him the "come here" gesture with my index finger. At first he didn't respond, but then a little smirk played on his features. I must say I was being rather daring by coaxing Kaiba onto the dance floor; for one, he didn't seem to be the type for club dancing, and secondly he was my boss. However, we were not at work, and we'd both been drinking. These were both positive contributing factors that would ultimately lead to my victory. I hoped…

_You ought to know, tonight is the night to let it go…_

_Put on a show, I wanna see how you lose control…_

When I looked up again, Kaiba was gone. But before I knew it, the statuesque man was moving through the crowd toward me. When he reached me, we began to harmonize together on what I presumed was a don't-ask-don't-tell basis. I found it highly out of character for Kaiba to be dancing in such a relaxed way like this, but wasn't going to complain. Maybe this was the drunk Kaiba? The Kaiba that drunk _me_ had been waiting so long to meet. I had been trying to hypothesize a way to get him to come down and have a dance for most of the night. I even thought about waving some $100 bills around for him to come fetch.

I grinned up at him whilst rocking my hips around as he did a spin and stopped to face me. To my surprise he returned the smile, and then, to my utter astonishment, put his arm around the small of my back and, with one swift thrust, pulled me closer into him. A little shocked but not exactly caring by this point (how much _had_ I had to drink, anyway?!), I placed one of my arms into the same position at his back and started grooving with him to the vibrant bass and catchy beat.

_So leave it behind, 'cause we have a night to get away…_

_So come on and fly with me, as we make our great escape…_

So, maybe I was wrong about Kaiba. Sure, he was a bit of a nerd and a bit of a dick at times, what with the whole straight-A-student-who-owned-his-own-multi-national-company-at-the-age-of-18 thing, but by the way he was spinning me around, gripping my waist with his hands and just generally blending in with the crowd dancing like a natural, it made me look at him at a different angle. There were, of course, other factors that were hindering my judgment at this point, ones which I didn't particularly want to take into account.

I was drunk, he was drunk.

I was sweaty, he was sweaty.

The music was thrumming at an ear-drum-bursting volume and bass.

The lights flashed spastically in a riotous wave of colours.

I sang along to the lyrics, my voice entirely drowned out, but still singing nevertheless. He stared right down into my eyes, like he could see past the confines of my soul, see the secret I held within…and the moment I dared to look back into the bluest depths I'd had the pleasure to see into, something seemed to mesh in my mind, and I knew that the way I felt could no longer be denied, as hard and as long as I'd tried to put it off. I closed my eyes and put my hands up behind his neck, thinking I had crossed the line…but he stayed. He stayed there with me, rocking a little more gently now as the song dipped low, only to climb up in tempo once again to reach its ever-building climax.

_Just let it be, come on and bring your body next to me…_

_I'll take you away; turn this place into our private getaway…_

_So why don't we run away?_

By this point I had completely lost myself, submerged in the rhythm, lost in the depths of Kaiba's arresting, half-lidded eyes the colour of cut sapphire, the lyrics that were so ironically relevant to the current circumstances…The smell of his natural man scent and cologne was possibly even more intoxicating than the alcohol itself, and I felt higher than any drug could make me. Young women on the dance floor were green, glowering daggers at me, but that was the least of my concerns. The whole throng of dancers twisted, twirled and moved in sync, gyrating, thrusting, bopping their heads, throwing their arms in the air, making out, singing to the words, and I thought for a moment that we might raise the roof.

_So baby don't worry, you are my only…_

_You won't be lonely…_

_Even if the sky is falling down…_

The song was approaching its zenith as the last repetition of the chorus played, and with one final thrust of our hips and flick of our hair, it was over, the song merging into another one with a completely different, catchy beat. Hesitantly I unclamped my arms from around Kaiba's shoulders. He and I stepped back from each other then, in the little space there was on the dance floor, disengaging from the hold. We stared at each other for a moment, glowing and rosy from the physical motion, a little breathless, and it wasn't until now that I realised we had a few spectators. I flushed hotly and made a hasty exit off the dance floor, not even thinking for a second to thank Kaiba for one of the most amazing dance experiences I'd yet had with a man before. I didn't take to the limelight, even if Kaiba did, and didn't want to make a scene. There was sure to be some paparazzi lurking around somewhere, and no doubt my face would be in a magazine somewhere, somehow, by tomorrow, so I curtly took my leave.

I hurried to the ladies' toilets to splash my face with water. I was the only one in there, apart from a young woman who did not look in the best shape, and was slumped in the corner groaning. After freshening up a bit and drinking some water straight from the tap (it's 3am, ok?), I thought I'd better call it a night. With the last of the little dignity I had left, I took a deep breath and exited the bathroom and rounded the corner, only to smash promptly into Kaiba coming out of the men's.

Then something very, very unexpected happened.

Even more unexpected than walking into him, if that was even possible. In the split second that it happened, Kaiba had me backed against the wall, holding one of my wrists tightly up by my own head, and his mouth was crushed against mine.

It was some kind of random, erotic frenzy, and I felt so sexually wanton that all my inhibitions left me. He hitched my leg up onto his hip and ran his hand right up my thigh, grasping and squeezing my bare arse. Barely having time to breathe I kissed him back fervently in a wild, hormone-driven passion, for which reasons I didn't know at the present moment, but would possibly come to regret later on. Regret didn't cross my mind at this point, however. Zealously I knotted my hand into his dark tresses, tugging at the hem of his shirt with my other. He wasted no time in exploring my body, moving his lips to my neck and his hand to my breast. I exhaled roughly with excitement, wondering if this was in fact happening or not, my fingernails digging into his shoulders through his shirt.

Kaiba's lips hurriedly made traces back up my neck, sucking, nibbling, tasting, and I cried out as I felt his teeth break my skin. Our lips found each other's again and without restraint I allowed my tongue access to his. As flushed and heady as I felt, I was all too disappointed when the moment of passion came to a close. Apparently we came to our senses and pulled away from each other, simply staring mutedly into each other's eyes for what seemed like a lifetime. He looked at me – just as at sea as I was – and I couldn't for the life of me find the words.

"I – I –" I blithered, but I just couldn't speak.

"Sshh." With one last, sensual kiss upon my bruised but still-eager lips, Seto Kaiba walked away, leaving me flustered and panting against the wall.

**


	8. Illusion

Phantom: Hi guys ^^ here's a wee snippet of what's to come. By the way, the chapter title is the name of a cocktail made with Midori, in case you were wondering.

Chapter 8: Illusion

**

The first big snow of the season came mid October and for the past month Kaiba and I had been working very closely in getting things finalized and prepared for the end of the year. We worked fairly well as a team, rarely arguing (usually because I dared not to challenge him) and meeting deadlines as they were called for. We often stayed late at the office, having a drink afterward if it was a Friday evening.

Not a breath of what happened _that_ night had been spoken between us. Let us just refer to it as "the incident", from now on, yes? Okay, good. So, although it was as clear in my mind as if it happened yesterday, it was probably not the same with him, and was best left this way. As much as it drove me crazy, as many times as the night went over and over in my mind again and again, I remained tight-lipped, as did he. To some extent I felt we had both acknowledged what had happened. Ever since, we had started to behave more sincere around each other, offering to do more for each other, our eyes often lingering on the other's longer than necessary. But maybe that was just because it was such a stressful time of the year, business-wise. Yet still, not a peep escaped either of our mouths.

Perhaps he was pretending it didn't happen. Perhaps he didn't remember? I was drunker than he was, and, miracle of miracles, _I_ still remembered…Lord, how could I _forget_?! It was possibly the most erotically exhilarating and explosive moment of my life! And here I was, trying to suppress it. It was absolutely the most unnatural thing I could do. It was also torture but, for the sake of my professional career, I tried to let it go. Or at least push down it into a tiny corner of my mind and lock it up, where it could not be unleashed. It may fester over time, but maybe I would learn to contain it. I knew this theory was ludicrous, but somehow I had to learn to manage it, at least until some more appropriate time…like just before my contract ran out. Hell, even _after_ it ran out. Or maybe it would pop up randomly like a jack-in-the-box at the most inappropriate of times.

Besides, I had so much work to do, and so much on my mind, that "the incident" was put on the backburner until further notice. It was only 2 and a half months until Christmas, and a lot of work was yet to be done. Even so, it seemed to be affecting my concentration most days, and if I was lucky I would get through the day with all my tasks done to completion with no hiccups along the way. Usually that would go without saying, but I felt that Kaiba could tell I was struggling. Maybe he just thought it was because I was under more pressure than normal due to the Christmas period coming up. So, for the time being, I bit back my sexual tensions and tried to concentrate on the matter at hand: work.

It was on the 19th of October that Mokuba came into my office, closed the door behind him, and slumped down in a chair opposite my desk. I was immediately flustered, wondering if he had cottoned on to the fact of "the incident", but then decided that that was stupid. Mokuba was comatose when "the incident" had occurred. And it was doubtful that Kaiba would let anything slip to his loud-mouthed little brother. So, instead, I looked up from my laptop and raised an eyebrow at him. He came in and did this periodically, usually if he was dropping by after school. But today he looked especially perky, with that same usual mischievous glint in his eye. Recently he had come to putting a great big platinum blond streak through his hair on the right side of his head, making him resemble the lead singer of Tokio Hotel. I couldn't help but wonder if he was trying to impersonate him.

"You're up to something evil, aren't you?" I inquired.

He just grinned broadly. "Yup. It's nii-sama's birthday soon."

"Is that right?" I asked, trying to sound natural. "He doesn't seem like a birthday person to me."

"True," Mokuba shrugged. "But he'll be half expecting me to do something cool for him. And I think we should – it's an important one."

"Wait, what's this 'we' business?" I furrowed my brows even more.

"Come on," Mokuba coaxed in his adorable voice. "He's only going to turn 21 once. I'm going to need your help on this one."

I sighed. I should have known that Mokuba would somehow drag me into his instigations. The thing was, Kaiba wasn't one for celebrations – of any sort. I even wondered how or why he bothered with the hype around the Christmas holidays – he already had enough money. I guess it was just expected of him.

"What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking a surprise party."

"A valid idea," I said with a nod, weighing up the options. "But you would have to be extremely sneaky for him not to catch on to anything. How do you plan on doing it?"

"That's where you come in!" he bubbled. "I've already got marketing to design the invitations and send them out. I've got our chef at home to prepare all the food and drinks, and I've hired interior designers to decorate the mansion and his office for the day!"

"You've certainly planned ahead," I laughed. "but how do I fit into all of this?"

"Well, it won't be hard, really, since he's such a workaholic and all, but I need you to keep him here at work until about 7pm." Mokuba replied. "The invitations state that guests can arrive any time from 6pm onwards, and that Seto will be there for everyone to surprise him at 7.30."

I nodded affirmatively. "Alright, I can keep him here. But then…how am I supposed to get there to surprise him beforehand?"

"That's easy! I've paid some guys to come and do some 'maintenance' on all the elevators that night, so Seto will be under the impression that he'll have to be gone by 7pm, unless he wants to take the stairs – which he won't, because it takes nearly an hour to climb down all the stairs from the 88th floor! I've asked the 'maintenance' guys to come and grab him before they start 'maintaining', to make sure he leaves. You can remind him at about 6.30pm before you leave, so you can get to the mansion before he gets there."

Mokuba was nearly breathless by the time he had recited his hypothesis to me. I was still dubious. "Okay, but…what if he decides to leave early on this particular occasion? You know, being that it's his birthday and all…he might not come to work at all!"

"Don't worry," Mokuba reassured me. "I've taken care of that already. He's got _way_ too much work on at the moment to think about slacking off, anyway. He's been here til nine or 10 most nights this week. His birthday is just another day, to him."

I looked into Mokuba's swimming grey eyes. He was searching for my approval. The brothers were like chalk and cheese in most respects – Kaiba being the detached, introverted, sarcastic and ruthless business tycoon with the driest sense of humour I'd yet encountered – and Mokuba (who had recently had a growth spurt and was almost level with Kaiba himself, now), the cheeky, bubbly and energetic teenage brother with the most killer smile I'd ever seen – one that was already breaking girls' hearts the world over. Yet in many ways there were alike, too. They were both exceptionally intelligent, too clever for their own good, and just as arrogant. And though Mokuba had a heart of gold and everyone knew so, I liked to think that somewhere, in the deepest confines of his untouchable, locked up soul, Kaiba did, too.

"I don't think your brother is going to like this, and God forbid should I get fired because of it, but I will help you, Mokuba."

"Great, I knew you would! Thanks!"

"What day is all this happening, by the way?"

"Friday the 25th! That's the actual day of his birthday, too. I can't wait to see the look on his face in the morning when he gets here! And then the party, too! It's going to be epic!"

I chuckled, imagining the shock on Kaiba's face, and then his blue eyes rolling. Then something vital occurred to me. "Do I have to do the present thing?"

"Only if you want to." Mokuba shrugged indifferently. "Seto only got you the coat in London because I said you would like it."

"I know." I said, but queried that in my own mind. After 'the incident'…who really knew _what_ his intentions were? "I'll think of something, I guess."

A knock sounded on my door, then the subject of our conversation walked in. "Come on, Mokuba. We're going to be late."

Mokuba winked and smiled at me before getting out of his chair. "I gotta get to soccer practice, Mila-chan. I'll see you later!"

I smiled inwardly at the pet name Mokuba had come to calling me. Being that both Kaiba and Mokuba spoke English, they were two of the only people I knew in Japan that could properly enunciate the "L" sound in my name – Milagros, or Mila for short. It's quite the nonconformist name, I know. My mother wasn't in the best state of mind when I was born, being as drugged up as she was, and when she suggested my name it came out as a kind of drug-induced slur. The nurses took her garble to mean the Spanish name of Milagros, meaning "miracles" deriving from the Virgin Mary, when in fact my mother had meant to say "Milla-Grace". In any case, Milagros was put down onto my birth certificate, and "Mila" (pronounced 'Meela') is what I commonly became known as. So there you have it. Anyhoo…

I smiled at the two, refraining from laughing out loud at what Kaiba didn't know that we both did. "Alright, bye Mokuba."

Kaiba narrowed his eyes at me, sensing something was up. He was always very quick on the uptake. "I'll be back in 20."

I mock-saluted him – "Yes, _sir_."

He screwed up his face, knowing I knew something he didn't, but was unable to put his finger on it. "Hn, get back to work."

- and got back to work.

**


	9. Brandy

Phantom: Well, do I have you all climbing up the walls wanting more, yet? Heheh…perhaps not, but to those of you who have reviewed and "can't wait for the next chapter"…here it is!! It was quite a toughie to write, so I hope you are satisfied with it, because it took me ages to perfect it! PS: This story is starting to come to a close, there will probably only be two or three at the most chapters after this one. Hope you enjoy-eth ^^

Chapter 9: Brandy

**

The 25th rolled around quickly. It was snowing heavily, as it had been all week, and Mokuba had been out of school on holidays. He definitely wasn't going to miss the morning of Kaiba's birthday, which was a sight to behold. Hundreds of blue and silver balloons littered Kaiba's office, complete with streamers and confetti. There were even balloons blown up into the shape of his favourite Duel Monsters floating up by the ceiling, filled with helium. Mokuba had a great time inhaling the helium and talking like a squeaky toy, which in turn had me falling over in stitches and made me want to squish him until he could hardly breathe. Kaiba reprimanded him for inhaling substances, but was amused all the same as well.

I learnt a lot of things on this day. Firstly, Kaiba was not one for birthdays, least of all his own – the cheesy gift I had come up with of a wind-up Blue Eyes White Dragon toy (in an attempt to make him at least crack a smile) had not impressed him one iota, but at least I tried; secondly, I had a new-found, overly irrational fear of the sound of balloons popping, and thirdly, I was a bad pretender. Every time Kaiba narrowed his eyes at me on that fateful day for apparently no reason, I broke into a nervous sweat, fearful that he would bust into my office and randomly interrogate me and the surprise would be inevitably ruined.

By the end of the day, I was feeling illogically nervous and utterly exhausted. _So_ many people had called and emailed to wish Kaiba many happy returns. Perhaps this was due to the fact that it was almost 6.30pm – the time I was due to head out the door and remind Kaiba that the elevators were having "maintenance" done on them tonight. Perhaps it was more because Kaiba could see through my façade like glass and knew something was up, being that a) it was his birthday, b) it was a little too convenient that the lifts were being maintained on said birthday, meaning he would have to leave earlier than usual, or c) I just couldn't put up a front for shit. Maybe it was because every time I looked at him, a repeat episode of _that night_ flashed in my mind.

Only one hour to go until the surprise. I had better make this good.

I stepped into Kaiba's office doorway. He looked up in an automated response. "I'm off now. Remember the elevators are being worked on at 7 tonight." I tried to keep cool and casual.

He lifted an eyebrow, unfazed, then went back to signing contracts. "Goodnight."

My heart leapt thunderously – one might almost say victoriously – in my ribcage. "See you in the morning." I fought the urge to say 'enjoy the rest of your birthday', figuring it might be better left unsaid. He would get enough of that as it was, soon, anyway.

Swiftly I turned and went back down the corridor to the elevator and pressed the button continuously until one of the doors opened. I couldn't believe I had actually managed to go the entire day of Kaiba's birthday without letting anything slip. Either that, or he knew everything and didn't want to let on so he wouldn't hurt my feelings or spoil anything. Then again, Kaiba never cared about anyone's feelings, especially not mine (this was currently up for debate), but perhaps all he was concerned about was ruining whatever Mokuba may or may not have planned. I hypothesized the possible reasons as to Kaiba's indifference the whole way to the train station, before catching a different train from my usual. This one headed out into the leafier suburbs of Domino, where the city's more elite clientele resided – Kaiba being among them.

I had only been to Kaiba's place once, for Mokuba's 15th birthday. That was some months ago now, and I was somewhat looking forward to being back at the residence once again. The train stopped a couple of blocks from the manor, so I walked the snow laden streets through the suburbs until I arrived. The mansion – rumoured to be worth an estimated US $100 million – loomed at the end of a dead-end cul-de-sac behind huge schist stone walls. Through wrought-iron gates was a long, tree-lined limestone driveway, at the end of which was a white marble fountain sculpted into Kaiba's favourite Duel Monster - the Blue Eyes Ultimate Dragons, spewing water out their mouths.

Off to the left was a huge 9-car garage, separate from the manor itself, housing several expensive European and Japanese sports cars. Manicured gardens stretched for several acres down the back sections, including a magnificent, rectangular shaped water lily pond that was approximately 75 feet long, and the caretaker's cottage. Kaiba's caretaker was an elderly man whose life was gardening – he lived for it, and did not see what all the fuss was about with Kaiba being such a celebrity. He just loved his garden, and the garden loved him. That was all there was to it, as far as he was concerned.

The house itself was made almost entirely of schist stone, with a huge white-marble pillared entranceway supporting a luxurious balcony above, accessible from the master bedroom. The manor was a rough 'n' shape, with the entrance foyer being in the middle and the kitchen, guest rooms, wine cellar, living and entertainment rooms on the outer "wings" of the ground floor. Upstairs boasted Kaiba and Mokuba's bedrooms and bathrooms, including a library, study, office and panic room, so that Kaiba could work from home if need be.

The outhouse had an in-ground heated swimming pool and spa bath, gym facilities and a sauna and steam room. If Kaiba had been one for horses I would imagine he'd also have a stable and show jumping grounds, but he wasn't. In fact, the closest thing the two brothers came to animals were Mokuba's two Alaskan Malamutes and the giant mutant goldfish in the lily pond. There was, however, a tennis court and outdoor swimming pool also, and a private lake that, when frozen in winter, could be used as an ice skating rink. As if that wasn't enough, the west wing of the mansion had a helicopter pad and duelling arena to boot.

I pressed the intercom button on the outside of the gates, and Mokuba's chirpy voice answered. "Hey, Mila-chan. I'll let you in."

The gates opened and I hurried up the driveway. Mokuba was waiting at the foyer for me and I quickly slipped off my shoes before he ushered me inside. Banners, balloons and the like littered the walls and the floor. When we got to the grand hostess kitchen where everyone seemed to be loitering, I recognised a few familiar faces. Mokuba had obviously invited his dueling friends, and some of them were having a game the old fashioned way, without the holographs. I, however, was more intent on finding the wine and food, being famished and in desperate need of a stiff drink not only to warm me up, but to soothe my frazzled nerves. I headed straight for the liquor cabinet which I knew was in one of Kaiba's living rooms, and found a bottle of unopened brandy.

"I'll take that, you have a seat." Mokuba said, snatching the bottle from me. "How would you like that, ma'am?" He was so charming, so different to his brother.

I grinned and sat down in one of the plush leather bucket chairs. "On the rocks, of course."

"Coming right up." He disappeared into the kitchen.

As I put my head back and closed my eyes, I could vaguely hear the sound of the ice maker in the kitchen as Mokuba made up my drink, over the muted murmur of several voices speaking simultaneously. I thought how nice it was to just rest my eyes for a moment after such a nerve-shattering day; having to keep up a façade in front of Kaiba for nine hours was a task in itself. I felt something cold being pressed into my hand and opened my eyes to see Mokuba staring down at me.

"Here's your drink, Mila-chan. Are you OK?"

I sighed and took a swill. "Better now. But seriously, that brother of yours is hard work!"

"I know, but thank you! You did such a great job, I'm sure he won't know a thing." Mokuba replied happily. "We got a cake and everything. Now, don't be antisocial. Come and mingle."

I looked at my wristwatch and noticed it was 7.15pm. Only a quarter of an hour to go until the Chosen One was due to walk in. "Alright. But I don't know anyone."

"You know Jounouchi! He's here." Mokuba countered.

"Oh, right. Of course I do." I replied nonchalantly. After our dud date, I wasn't particularly interested in making small talk with him again.

"Aw, come on Mila-chan. My brother isn't your only friend, here."

"He's not my friend," I scoffed as Mokuba led me through the dining area to another living area where the others were socializing.

"Then what is he?"

"My boss." I replied automatically.

"Hm, you got me there, I guess. But I reckon you like him."

"Don't be an imbecile." I sighed – Mokuba had no knowledge of "the incident", and I intended to keep it that way. So, I assumed, did Kaiba.

"You even _sound_ just like him! You _so_ like him." Mokuba pushed.

"Come off it, Mokuba! I'm helping you out here, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but, I know you like him."

"Shut up."

It was a fact. Ever since "the incident", my conception of Kaiba had altered somewhat. Kaiba and I had grown a steady, mutual friendship during my time of working for him, a relationship that was comfortably professional. But for the past couple of weeks since that night, I had found myself growing more attached to him. It was obvious I found him good-looking – any straight woman in her sound mind _would_ – but it seemed to be more than just a physical attraction, something more profound. Like I almost couldn't start my day without knowing he would be there to say hello in the morning. My nights had become plagued with dreams of him – intimate dreams, dreams that often didn't make a lot of sense, but were nonetheless erotic. I had flashbacks of those sensuous moments during the day while I worked, and they were starting to bother me.

I couldn't walk past my boss without noticing his masculine scent and immediately feeling intoxicated, heady. Whenever he leaned over my shoulder to dictate to me, my body automatically responded to his closeness. I was startled every time he came into my office, catching me unawares, hoping, _praying_ that he hadn't caught me daydreaming with that faraway look in my eyes. I felt like I was 'in season', if that was even possible for humans. This had to stop, even if it meant resigning. It was entirely inappropriate to feel this way about your boss, and a million times worse being that my boss just had to be _Seto Kaiba_.

Kaiba's life outside of the office wasn't exactly a subject I broached with ease. In fact, it wasn't a subject I broached at _all_. Although we shared the most part of our daily lives together, it was strictly platonic, and if it was out of the office then it was simply a matter of being friendly and polite. I hadn't the faintest clue as to why Kaiba wasn't married or tied down. I'm sure if he had a girlfriend – hell, even a _boyfriend_ – I would have heard about her (or him) by now. It was one of life's unanswerable questions – one that I didn't particularly want to know the answer to, anyway, for fear of being totally crushed. But this was the real world, I was a grown woman, and whether Seto Kaiba was married, divorced, single, straight, gay, bi, transgender, asexual or all of the above, I knew one thing was for sure – he had kissed me, and that did not go without reason.

I spent about ten minutes or so chatting with Otogi Ryuuji. Up close, his jet black hair and huge emerald green eyes were absolutely mesmerizing. I knew that he owned Black Crown, a kind of variant to Duel Monsters that somehow incorporated dice into the game. He jabbered on to me about that, until I became so mind-numbingly bored with it (bearing in mind that I worked with all things Duel Monsters day in, day out) that I made up a lame excuse to go back to talking to Mokuba, helping with food that was already prepared, polishing silverware that was already polished. Jounouchi waved a polite hello to me, and we exchanged a few words before I somehow got involved in a conversation with Yuugi Motou. However, after a short discussion on the latest duel monster technologies (what else?), I decided to go back to the bar after some girl with brown hair that imitated that of a cardboard box started glaring daggers at me. I wasn't sure what her beef was, but I didn't care to find out, I was too drained for that.

"He's here, he's here! Quick, everyone, to your hiding stations!" Mokuba suddenly raised the alarm as he noticed Kaiba outside the front entrance gates in his black Mercedes, gaining access with the iris scanner.

"We have hiding stations?" I asked thickly, and suddenly panicked.

"Of course we do!" Mokuba said as he grabbed my arm and hauled me sideways.

With glass of brandy number 2 in hand, I was yanked across the kitchen to the butler's pantry and shoved inside with the younger Kaiba sibling in hot pursuit. Then he pulled the doors shut. I wondered if he actually had this all planned out or not. All the lights in the house had been turned off and it seemed eerily quiet. I guess all the other guests wanted to make a good go of surprising Kaiba, too. A couple of minutes later, Seto Kaiba walked in and the sensor lights turned on automatically. Through the pantry door slats I could see that he was standing with briefcase in hand, eyeing the room with narrowed, tired blue eyes. It almost seemed like he was half-expecting a rabid duel monster to jump out from behind the curtains and attack him at any moment.

Then, without warning, Mokuba rammed me through the doors and "SURPRISE!!!" automatically escaped my lips, along with everyone else that jumped out of their hiding spots at the same time. It was like some weird synchronization, but the alcohol seemed to make it all the more surreal. I leant against the green granite bench top and let it all sink in, watching Kaiba's reaction with hilarity. He looked like a completely stunned mullet.

After the initial shock, Kaiba turned his head and sent a menacing glare to Mokuba. "I should have known you were up to something." He then directed the glare toward me. I straightened up a little. "And _you_, too? Tch. I would have expected better of you."

"Aw, come on Kaiba! Don't be such a spoilsport! We all made the effort to come here, didn't we?" Jounouchi ranted as he came out from behind a pot plant – not the most effective hiding place, I must admit.

"Yeah, Kaiba, you should at least be grateful you _have_ friends." The girl added in a chastising tone.

"And it's not every day you celebrate your birthday, Kaiba." Yuugi mentioned. With that hair I wondered how he was able to hide behind anything at all.

Kaiba rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, of course, of course," he replied sarcastically. "Now please, go and take advantage of _my_ food and _my_ alcohol, and please, do make use of _my_ furniture and _my_ entertainment. After all, it is _my_ birthday." He folded his arms smugly.

This caused a chain reaction of eye-rolls among the group and they all muttered to themselves things along the lines of how ungrateful he was, and why did they even bother, before moving off to do exactly what he had said. I felt kind of awkward just standing behind the bench top, so I made moves toward the bottle of brandy that I had come to know quite well, right before I was interrupted by…

"Happy birthday, Seto. I love you so much!" Mokuba said, hugging his elder brother in a tight embrace and kissing his cheek.

"I love you too, Mokuba." Kaiba murmured, returning the hold. "Thank you."

For some bizarre reason this deeply touching display of affection made my intestines turn inside out and back to front, before turning to mush and making me feel like I could melt down in a cuteness overload. Never before had I witnessed such a thing between the two brothers, not even on Mokuba's birthday. In fact, this took the cake – no, make that the whole _bakery_ – on the scale of Kaiba ever showing any kind of loving emotion. I didn't even think he was _capable_ of doing so, or eliciting those kinds of words from his mouth.

I thought at this particular point in time before I passed out I should probably make my way closer to the brandy bottle. Finally I honed in on my target, and decided to mix it with some Crème de Cacao to make a Brandy Alexander, for a smoother hit. It went down like a dream, and suddenly I felt a lot calmer inside.

After putting down his briefcase and hanging up his suit jacket, Kaiba came and stood by me at the island countertop.

"Drink?" I asked cheerfully, trying not to show my ever-emerging drunkenness.

"Got one." He replied, and I noticed he already had a glass in his hand. He must have obtained a drink while I was zoned out.

"Oh." I sweatdropped. "So, um…"

"Since you went to so much trouble, I'm assuming you have a _real_ birthday present for me?" he interjected my rambling.

I was puzzled. "I already got you a present. Which you rejected."

"Oh, _please_. You call _that_ a _gift_?" He looked clearly unconvinced. "_You_ get an expensive trench coat from me on your birthday, and all I get is a junky plastic _toy_?"

I grimaced. "I wasn't trying to impress you! It was kind of just a lame joke to make you smile, since you already have everything, anyway."

"Well, it did, and take a joke." He rolled his eyes.

I sighed heavily. With Kaiba being my boss, sometimes I didn't know the difference of when he was trying to joke, and when he was being serious.

"So what do you want, then? Since my toy wasn't _good_ enough for you. Sexual favours again, perhaps?!" immediately I hit my face with my palm and squeezed my eyes tight shut, half-expecting him to slap me. Why did I say that?! Damned alcohol…

To my surprise, when I opened my eyes, he was smiling with his own eyes shut in modesty. "Hn, I may need to get back to you about that." He replied before sauntering off to mix with his other associates.

To my utter horror and shame, I poured myself another drink, wondering if in hindsight this was a good idea or not, but not exactly caring. This disastrous day was becoming an even more torturous night, and I'm not sure why I agreed to Mokuba's proposal, but one thing was for sure – I was going to kill him, and it would be tonight. Or perhaps I should just run for the hills, but in this semi-drunken state that might not be such a wise idea. It was still snowing, the trains on this side of the city went by the hour from seven onwards – and it was now 7.45pm – and ultimately, I didn't want to get lost in the snow, drunk. No. I should probably stop drinking and then gracefully take my leave when I was more sober. I tried to stick to that plan, failing miserably.

**

Later on, I found myself singing along with the others to the 'happy birthday' song, while Mokuba forced Kaiba to blow out all 21 candles that adorned his 5-layer black-forest chocolate-cream gateaux cake that was roughly the size of a small swimming pool. All 50 or so guests got a piece of it, and I was just about losing my mind because it tasted so good that I had to go back for seconds. Whoever had whipped up this heavenly, delirium-inducing baked good was the master of all culinary arts, and I shall be forever grateful to them for this masterful creation.

Even later on, after the gift-giving and yet more socializing (if socializing with a wine bottle counts), I found myself sitting at an Italian marble and wrought-iron table and chairs set in the upstairs sitting room of the mansion, away from the ever-chilling snow, playing Duel Monsters with Jounouchi Katsuya. Don't ask me how I got up here, because I don't know. However, on the upside, I was actually winning. Don't ask me how that happened, either. Maybe it was because I was using Kaiba's deck. I don't know how I got my hands on that, either…

"Man, Mila! Do you only duel when you're drunk or somethin'? You're kicking my ass!"

"Um…I actually don't play much at all, to be honest."

"Oh yeah? Well, watch this! I play Magnet Warrior in attack mode! And since your Battle Ox is in attack mode, I might just destroy it!"

"_But_ I play trap card Mirror Force, which reflects your attack and then leaves you wide open for a direct hit, so I'll play my Battle Ox to attack you directly, which effectively destroys all your lifepoints. Sorry, Jounouchi." I grinned.

Deflated, he sat back. "Ah, you got me. Guess I'm not on top of my game tonight, huh?"

I smiled. "Guess not."

"I hate to break this up, because clearly you're both having such a riveting time, but I need to speak with you, Milagros, _now_."

Hazily I looked up to see Kaiba standing over us. His tone was more venomous than usual, and I figured it was because the blond just rubbed him up the wrong way by merely being in existence. Jounouchi muttered something unintelligible and took his leave, with Kaiba swiftly taking his place at the table opposite me. I picked up my drink and swished the dregs around a bit before finishing the last of whatever it was I had been drinking. I don't even remember what it was. Perhaps it was cherry-flavoured cointreau…

"Milagros."

"Yes." I snapped back to him attentively.

"You've been rather strung out lately, over the past few weeks at work. Tonight, as well. I wanted to make sure everything is okay."

Strung out, indeed. Was he really that dense not to know what was affecting me?

I wasn't expecting him to ask something like this though, in any case, and I didn't know how to react. "Everything's fine." I covered.

I didn't expect him to smirk just then, but he did. "You really shouldn't lie to me, you know. You're really bad at it."

I scowled. "How do you know I'm lying?"

"Well, it was obvious that you were keeping this from me, today. And it's obvious that you're lying now. So spit it out, already!"

By 'this' I knew he meant the surprise party. He almost sounded angry, but I'd been working with him for so long now that I knew his tone was all bark and no bite, so to speak, and so remained composed. But still, I hadn't had to confront him face-to-face about something I'd previously kept very private – the way I felt for him, and "the incident". This was a much worse interrogation that I hadn't seen coming.

"I'm going to get some air." I spluttered, not quite sure how my brain came up with that one. It seemed to be an appropriate scapegoat, however, as I slid through the French doors out into the freezing night. Kaiba, not one to let things go so easily, followed me.

The icy air was refreshing against my suddenly clammy skin, my heart once again in male-gorilla-on-heat mode as I panicked from the inside out. I sucked in a few deep breaths, looking over the gardens and eventually the city on this snowy autumn night. It was so, so beautiful.

"You'll catch your death out here." Kaiba muttered.

"I'd rather be dead." I mumbled in reply.

"Than what?"

I sighed heavily. "Nothing. Look…I know you remember what happened that night, so stop trying to act like it never happened."

There was silence for a while before he spoke. "I figured it was best left at that." He finally replied, looking down at me side-on.

"Do you have _any_ idea what's been going through my mind for the past couple of weeks, because of that night?!" I shrieked, finally letting the torrent run free.

"Why didn't you say anything, then? I thought you regretted it, so I didn't say anything either!" he shot back.

He couldn't have been further from the truth! "Don't you _see_…?!" I said in a strained, coarse voice. I could feel tears starting to threaten.

"See what?!" he retorted back, becoming frustrated and putting his hands on either side of my arms as if he was about to shake me. "Stop playing games, Milagros! Just be straight with me!"

"I'm not playing games, Kaiba! You don't get it! You just don't _get_ it!" I cried, now a raging drunk maniac on the border of delirium. This sure wasn't going to end well…

"I can't understand unless you _tell_ me!" he yelled back urgently, this time shaking (some sense into) me. "Do you regret what happened, Milagros? Because I don't!"

My breath caught in my throat as I went saucer-eyed. "…what?"

His eyes went stony. "You heard me."

As cliché was it was, the moon then chose that exact moment to show itself from behind the clouds, and its luminous light reflected on the falling snow surrounding us. Kaiba searched my face frantically for an answer, and I realised that he probably had never been in this situation before – of someone trying to tell him that they loved him – in the non-brotherly-love kind of way. He had absolutely no experience, because no-one had been able to get this close to him in this way before, apart from, perhaps, a few lucky, fast women. After all, Seto Kaiba couldn't be a virgin. I wasn't even going to entertain that thought – it was ludicrous. I vaguely wondered if I would be the first to get through the bars of his locked up heart, or if this is where it would end, and I might just end up another lucky, fast woman, or nothing at all.

"Tell me…" he coaxed, this time more softly, obviously knowing he'd shocked me into speechlessness.

"No." I whispered. "I don't regret it. In fact, I…" suddenly my throat froze up, and for some reason, uttering those three fateful words, was physically impossible.

"You what…?"

I felt like I was about to have a breakdown. "I…ai shiteru."

And, as melodramatic as it appeared, there was really no other way to describe the current predicament. I was in love with him, and I just admitted it completely and wholly with no qualms whatsoever. I was ashamed of loving him, my boss, the man that the world both loved and loathed, the man that wasn't really all he was made out to be – he just needed to be understood. How did this happen? He wasn't particularly my type to begin with, but then…it all seemed to spiral out of control in the space of a few mere weeks. The turmoil I had been going over in my mind was unrelenting – to tell or not to tell? But I could live with it no longer. And now, with the help of freely supplied alcohol, it all came spilling out…which felt so good, it was hard to regret.

"What…?" was all he could manage. "Say that again." In a more demanding tone this time.

I pulled myself together and looked at him square in the face. "I. Love. You." I said in plain English.

He looked surprised. "Again."

I was getting agitated, now. "I love you!" I shrieked. "I love you! I love you, Kaiba! How many times do I need to fucking say it?"

"Enough for me to believe you."

So maybe he _had_ been in this situation before. "You're killing me, here." I muttered as I dug a knuckle into my teary eye and hiccupped.

Kaiba took my hand away from my humiliated face, forcing me to look at him. "One more time."

I would say it a thousand times if he wanted me to. "I love you." I repeated, my voice cracking. "I'm in love with you, and have been since…" I faltered. How long _had_ it been? "Ages."

We simply stood there for what seemed like an age, but I couldn't look at him. The air was starting to make me cold, now, even though I felt boiling on the inside. I was startled when he wiped away a big fat tear rolling down my cheek – the first time he'd ever endeavoured to touch me physically in _that_ kind of a way, since "the incident". His skin was smooth and warm to the touch. For some stupid reason I'd half expected him to be as cold as ice. His finger trailed my jaw line and came under my chin. He tilted my head upward so as to force our eyes to meet. I looked away and closed my eyes again.

"Look at me." He ordered.

"I can't…" I moaned.

"Look at me, Milagros. Please."

I cracked my eyes open a little, releasing my vision enough to see those exquisite, arresting sapphire eyes of his. "Kaiba…" I whined, more tears pouring out. "Please…"

"Don't say another word," he whispered, and silenced my lips with his.

It was soft, so wonderfully tender, and once I got over the shock, I melted. He was indescribably gentle, tasted like champagne, and smelt insanely good. I could hardly believe this was happening. Five minutes ago I was struggling to address the fact that I was head-over-heels in love with him, Seto Kaiba, petrified that he would turn me away, tell me never to come back. He was, after all, Seto Kaiba, the man known for being so detached and emotionless. This was not even remotely his area of expertise. At least, I didn't think it was, but perhaps I was wrong… He didn't exactly seem like an amateur during this moment.

Now here he was, kissing me, pulling me closer to his body, and it felt so surreal, I felt like I was floating. If I was dreaming, for Christ's sake do _not_ wake me up! My body was exploding with joy, tingles of pleasure ripping through me, my knees becoming weak. Finally we pulled back, and in the moment that I felt my knees give way under me, Kaiba caught me in his arms and carried me inside as I sobbed and howled like a child lost in the woods.

**


	10. Cake

Phantom: Sorry its been so long since I've posted! I'm going to be wrapping this story up soon, in the next couple of chapters. But, alas, it's not finished yet, so enjoy this latest instalment!!

Chapter 10: Cake

**

My vision was hazy when I cracked my eyes open the next morning. Surprisingly, I didn't feel hung-over. This, I figured, was a good thing. It must have meant I didn't drink as much as I thought last night. Either that, or I was still asleep and _dreaming_ I wasn't hung-over. I hoped it wasn't the latter. It can't have been a dream, though, because the moment my eyes fell on the glass of water at my bedside, my mouth was sucked of all moisture.

With a little difficulty, I sat up and reached for the glass. As I sat up, the sheet slipped down, frankly reminding me of my plain nakedness. I gasped a little and pulled the covers up, took a drink, and looked around the room.

This was not my bedroom.

This room was the size of my entire apartment. The white Egyptian cotton sheets were at least 1000 thread count. The flat-screen television had to be at least a 42 inch. The dark, polished headboard behind me was probably solid oak, and weighed a ton. The circular shaped white chaise couches in front of the television were probably real leather. The coffee table between the television and the settees was probably real white marble. Through the doors to the balcony, I could see that it was still snowing heavily outside, but it was toasty warm inside, thanks to the contemporary gas fire flickering away in one corner behind a glass façade.

I was still at Kaiba's.

In his bedroom.

In his bed!

Paradoxically, my first thought was how absurd and ironic the situation was; one, because several hundred thousand fangirls would probably sell both their virginity and younger sibling on e-Bay to be in this current predicament, and two, because, sure, I liked Kaiba, but I wasn't a morbidly obsessed fan, like them. One would think that only someone that fell into that category would actually – miraculously, some might say – end up in Seto Kaiba's bed. I completely felt like I'd made my cake and eaten it too; the cat that got the cream, if you will.

However. When realisation set in, it apparently became too much for me to handle and I collapsed back under the covers, pulling them over my head. I groaned loudly, chastising myself for however the hell I managed to end up here. Kaiba was my boss, and people did not end up in bed with their bosses if they knew what was good for them.

What happened again? Oh, right. We kissed. Again. And I told him… I loved him…

I told him I loved him?!

SHIT!

What happened after that?

He carried me inside. I was crying… With relief?

Then what?

Did we…?

I glanced down under the sheets at my blatantly obvious nudeness. This mystified me. I didn't _feel_ like I'd had a night of rough sex; the room didn't _smell_ especially like I'd had a night of rough sex, and I would like to have thought that I would _remember_ having a night of rough sex, but I was suspicious. I came back up for air, and frowned upon seeing my work clothes from the day before strewn across the white loungers. My bra and underwear were on the floor next to me.

Flashbacks finally made a cameo appearance in my mind as I recalled the urgent frenzy of removing clothes and snogging feverishly on the couch, before somehow ending up in the bed and probably talking a whole lot of bullshit before passing out. This was a likely theory. I wondered in hindsight if Kaiba would be impressed or disgusted with me for not having sex with him whilst drunk. But maybe we _did_? Ugh, why did this have to be so hard? If we didn't have sex, then why was I naked?!

_Think, Mila, think!_ I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose, forcing memories to come together. Ah, yes! The confession. That's right. I had lain cosily in his arms and spilt the whole damned lot. But what did he say? Did he tell me he loved me…too?

_Don't be ridiculous, Mila. _My brain seemed to be pretty sure about that one.

Then, why did he kiss me?

Where _was_ he, anyway…?

"Kaiba?" I called out, my voice unpleasantly hoarse.

I heard footsteps coming toward the bedroom door and pulled the covers up again. Mokuba then came through said doors. I sat upright, staring at him bug-eyed. He cracked a giant grin. Could he _smell_ it? The sweat and the tears and the shame and the pleasure? I felt myself begin to perspire.

"Hey, Mila! You _are_ alive! I was starting to worry about you."

I took a deep breath. "What time is it?"

"It's nearly 12." He replied, belly-flopping onto the end of the bed. "Do you feel like some brunch? Seto's down in the kitchen."

The thought of food at first made my stomach churn, but then the hunger pains started. The last thing I'd had to eat had been a slice of birthday cake about 14 hours ago. "Yeah, thanks. Sounds good."

Mokuba chuckled. "Don't worry, Mila. I'm not gonna judge. If anything…well, I'm happy for you guys. Just go have a shower and come down, okay? We'll be waiting for you."

I just about died of embarrassment. Did he _know_? "Oh, um…err…yeah."

"The en-suite is just through there. There will be a robe or something in there that you can borrow." Mokuba replied, gesturing to the right, before leaving the room.

I figured this was probably a good idea. The smell of alcohol was likely to be oozing out of my pores, and it had been 24 hours or more since I last had a shower. With that thought in mind, I made sure no one was around before I got up out of Kaiba's bed – now over the embarrassment that I was completely nude – and made my way to the en-suite bathroom.

Inside, the bathroom floor and walls were of dark brown and black coloured tiles made from some kind of fancy polished stone. A multi-jet shower was in one corner with glass panels, along with a freestanding bath with claw feet and a double-basin vanity along the wall. The floor-to-ceiling windows that stretched across the back of the room had views to the gardens out the back and beyond. I sighed. Oh, to live in the lap of luxury! What a hard life it must be.

The shower itself was like having an all-over body massage; I could have stayed in there all day. After towelling my hair dry, I found a fluffy white robe folded on a chrome shelf by the vanity and put it on. It was like slipping into heaven! Kaiba truly spared no expense when it came to quality. I took a peek at the label of the robe and nearly fainted when I saw that it was Louis Vuitton.

Recovering from that, I decided to take a quick look at myself in the mirror, almost a little scared at what I might find. I looked thoroughly bushed. _From a night of rough sex, perhaps?_ My brain inquired. _Shut up!_ I cussed mentally, trying to figure out how I was going to face Kaiba in the next couple of minutes when I made my grand entrance downstairs. I settled on not even trying to figure it out. I was in the most impossible situation of my life, right now. It couldn't get any worse, or any better, at the same time, given how I felt toward the man, and that he happened to be my boss.

When I made it to the kitchen, Kaiba was at the dining table reading a newspaper, idly holding a fork with a piece of pancake on the end of it in one hand. He was wearing his usual pair of wire-rim reading glasses quite low on his nose, and a dark blue robe not unlike the white one I was currently wrapped up in. I shifted uncomfortably, then decided to make a beeline toward the coffee perk, hoping he wouldn't notice me. Immediately he looked up. We stared at each other for a few moments. Randomly I felt a lump rise to my throat. He was so bloody beautiful, with his hair all tousled like that from not having done it yet, it was actually ridiculous.

"Help yourself," he said quietly, gesturing subtly to the preposterous amount of food on the table.

I eyed it. It all looked succulent and delicious, and I had to restrain myself from openly salivating, so I poured myself a coffee quickly and grabbed a plate. Once I'd selected what I wanted, I took a seat next to Kaiba and began eating gingerly, never feeling more awkward in my entire life than in this precise moment. Mokuba, I noticed, was reading a magazine, but discreetly looked up every so often at us.

"Did you sleep well, Mila?" he asked, trying to break the strained silence.

I noticed Kaiba shoot a glare his way. "Like a baby." I replied, a little sheepishly.

"That's good. What about you, Seto?" Mokuba asked.

The man sighed and rolled his eyes, getting that his brother was hinting toward the fact that we had slept in the same bed last night. "Go and take the dogs outside, Mokuba. They've been inside all night."

The teen shrugged and stood up. "Okay."

As soon as Mokuba had sauntered out of sight, Kaiba took off his reading glasses and looked at me pointedly. "Now that we're both sober, I think we should talk about this."

"Yes, we should." I sighed, sensing the impending onslaught. "Am I fired?"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, I actually managed to make Kaiba laugh. "No. But if you had been any other employee, then it's a possibility."

I didn't realise I'd been holding my breath and exhaled in relief. "Alright, but listen, Kaiba –"

"Seto." He interrupted. "I think we're pretty well introduced by now, don't you?"

I glanced at him peculiarly. "Okay…Seto…then." The name rolled weirdly off of my tongue. It was like calling Queen Elizabeth 'Lizzie'. I'd never dared call him by his first name before. It just seemed…improper. "What I said and did last night…I meant it. All of it."

"So you weren't just in a drunken stupor, then?" he smiled wryly.

I glowered at him. "That's beside the point."

"Then, what is the point?"

"The point is that –" I had to think for a moment how to word this appropriately. I decided to just be out with it. "The point is that…I love you." I flushed.

He didn't say anything for a moment, and I feared was about to feel the crush of rejection. "I want to believe you, but…" he seemed a little stuck for words. "Please don't blame me for being wary. I have had many people say this to me."

"Fast women, I bet." I muttered in dislike.

"You're not a fast woman." He countered. "I have more reason to believe you than any of them."

I shuddered, wondering vaguely how many of 'them' there were. "What makes you think any different of me, then?" I asked, kind of pissed.

"You're quite unlike anyone else I've been with." He replied quietly. "Not that we've…_been_ together, as such. Yet."

I grinned at the 'yet' innuendo as I noticed the smile and a faint blush creep to his face. For some reason I felt quite triumphant that we hadn't slept together last night. "So…what now?"

Kaiba – sorry, _Seto_ – a man not known for his dilly-dallying, got straight to the point. "I would like to…see you exclusively, if that is what you want also."

"Are you asking me out?" I blurted, and then cupped my hands over my mouth. "Sorry, forgive my bluntness."

"You're forgiven, and, I think I am." Seto replied coolly.

"People will talk."

"So let them talk."

I felt a random eruption of excitement detonate within me. For some reason I had thought that he would want to keep any kind of intimate relationship tightly under wraps. Perhaps a five-year career in dueling, hosting tournaments and opening parks and shrines, had made Seto finally realise what was most important in life. It was not wealth or fame, or being the greatest at everything – but being content. All his years of work and striving to become the most successful man known to Japan had finally made him realise that life was what you made it – and he had certainly made something of himself, from orphan to multi-billionaire – but, like every other human soul on the face of the Earth, he endeavoured only for happiness, and perhaps love. But let's not go too far, yet.

"You don't care...what anyone else thinks?"

"My personal life has nothing to do with my business life. Neither should yours."

I bit my lip. "I know, but, what I mean is...because we work together, it's going to make it more complicated."

He still seemed unfazed. "Nothing at work has to change, as long as we maintain our professional relationship, too."

I was a little puzzled. "What if get caught?"

"Doing what?"

So he didn't want anyone at work to know. Now I understood. "...Oh."

"It will get out sooner or later." he responded casually, as if to reassure me. "But you should know me well enough by now to know that I do as I please regardless of what anyone thinks, and if you're going to be in this with me, then you need to have the same mindset."

I must say, Kaiba - rather, _Seto _(how was I going to get used to that?) - almost made arrogance seem like a virtue. "I'll try."

He nodded, and then said in a softer tone, "You must understand...I have been in the media spotlight since I was twelve years old when Gozaburo adopted Mokuba and I. I'm used to it, and if we're going to do this, you'll have to be as well."

I nodded. "I just… I don't want to feel like I can't be...affectionate...around you…just because there might be people or employees or paparazzi around watching." I said in a small voice. "You know, like… I don't want there to be restrictions on our…relationship." I struggled to address my concerns.

He seemed a little stumped. "As long as it's...appropriate...I don't see a problem."

I sighed. Why did I get the feeling that this wasn't going to work out? Oh, yeah, don't screw the crew. Suddenly, an uprising of questions exploded in my head. How long had he felt this way? _Why_ did he feel this way toward me? Was it his intention all along, just to get me into bed? I needed answers desperately.

"How long have you felt this way about me?" I questioned.

"A while." he answered evasively, his eyes not leaving the newspaper. "And you?"

I blushed. "A while."

He smirked. "You do realise you're going to get hate mail once people catch wind of this?"

"I already do." I replied with a nonchalant shrug.

He frowned. "You never told me that."

"It's nothing I can't handle."

"How serious has it gotten?" he seemed concerned.

"Oh, you know. I get the odd death threat every now and then, but mostly it's just emails from teenage girls saying how much they dislike me, and how much better they would be at the job than I am. And how much more better suited they would be to you. All just hot air, really."

"Hmm..." he said thoughtfully. "I must get I.T. onto that. Perhaps there should be some kind of email-screening protocol."

I laughed. "Well, no one has delivered any bombs or anthrax to me, yet, so I think I'm safe."

"_Yet_." he emphasized. "It will probably get a lot worse, especially after the Christmas thing."

I raised an eyebrow. "Christmas… thing?"

It seemed as if someone had just flash-frozen him. "Oh...that's right; you don't know about that yet." He said, almost more to himself than to me.

"Seto! You weren't meant to tell her about that!" Mokuba cried as he came back down to the dining hall, obviously having been eavesdropping.

"Why not?" I demanded. "What don't I know about? Tell me!"

Mokuba sat down across the table from us, looking thoroughly cheesed. "Well, now that Seto's let the cat out of the bag, we might as well tell you. We're –"

"No, Mokuba." Seto glared icily at his brother.

"You're _what_?!" I shrieked. "You can't do this to me!"

"It's a surprise." Seto replied, and when he crossed his arms, I knew he was going to be stubborn about it.

"Well, too bad. I won't be here." I sniffed.

Seto frowned. "Says who?"

"I handed in my application for leave last week," I reminded him. "You signed it, remember?"

He glared. I recoiled. "Well, consider it revoked."

"But I've already booked my flight home!" I cried in outrage. "You can't stop me from going."

"Yes, I can."

I folded my arms. "How?" I challenged.

"Either by force, or, if you do go, you're fired." Seto replied calmly.

"I can sue you for unfair dismissal."

"Have you forgotten who my lawyer is?"

I faltered. "Yokita..."

"It would be a conflict of interest for him to act for both of us." He smirked triumphantly.

"I could get independent legal advice." I countered.

"But I would still win." His smirk grew ever more infernal.

"I'm entitled to that annual leave, though!"

"Would you really want to go up against _me_ in court?"

I rolled my eyes. "I suppose you're going to pull the whole 'do you know who I am?' card?"

His smirk changed to a full-blown grin showing every one of his pearly whites. "Wouldn't you?"

"Ugh! You're horrible!" I shouted, knowing I had lost this battle. "I go home for Christmas every year."

"Not this year." He replied. "Don't worry; I'll see to it that you get to go home for a vacation in the New Year."

"You are very annoying." I stated matter-of-factly. "Take me home."

"Can't." He replied, once again absorbed in the newspaper.

"And why not?"

"We're snowed in, at the moment. We'll have to wait for the snow-ploughs to come and clear the street, which might not be until later this afternoon."

I deadpanned. "Really? Perfect."

"Cheer up, Mila. There's plenty we can do round here." Mokuba said, ever the optimist.

"Such as?"

"We could watch movies, play video games, duel, go for a swim…we could even go and make snowmen!"

I sighed. "I've got no clean clothes, Mokuba. But thanks. Maybe I'll just curl up and watch a movie or something."

"Sure! Lounge or home theatre?"

I laughed out loud. Of course, the Kaiba's had literally everything. "Just the lounge will be fine."

**

"You know you have to tell me what this Christmas thing is, right?"

"Yes."

"So tell me."

He sighed. "Well, I guess since it was my blunder, I have to. And you're going to want a good excuse not to go back to New Zealand this year."

"It had _better_ be good." I grumbled.

He flexed his fingers around the steering wheel. "I've been nominated for several honours at the Annual International Business Awards this year, and I wanted you to come with me…as my partner."

My head just about exploded. "Your _partner_?!"

He nodded serenely. "As I said earlier, it will get out sooner or later. Might as well give them some decent fodder."

It was a few moments before I answered as I processed this. I wasn't sure I liked the idea of giving the media even a morsel, let alone a damned banquet, by announcing our new, somewhat more _personal_ relationship, on an international scale.

"So…where are these awards being held?" I asked tentatively.

He looked at me sideways. "Moscow."

"_What_?!" I cried, a little too loudly even for my liking.

"Is that better than going home?" he queried, sounding genuinely frightened.

"You want to take me to _Russia_? In the middle of _winter_?!"

"There will be perks."

I frowned, imagining myself in a fur ushanka and moccasins, eating borsch and getting hammered on vodka. Maybe that last part wouldn't be so bad… "Like?"

"Goodie bags, which are usually pretty good, and…other things."

"What 'other things' do you speak of?"

He glared at me. "Will you ever stop asking questions and for once in your life just go with it?"

I deadpanned. "Fine. So we're going to Russia for Christmas."

"Is all forgiven, then?"

"Whatever. But they chose a shitty time of the year to hold these awards." I muttered. "Will we actually be in Moscow on Christmas Day?"

"The awards are on Christmas Eve, so yes." He replied. "I think you'll enjoy it. It's very…festive. Lots of eating and drinking. Your type of thing. You'll need something nice to wear."

I snorted. "I have plenty of nice dresses."

"Are any of them floor-length?"

I went cock-eyed. "…no?"

It was his turn to snort. "We're going shopping tomorrow."

The blizzard lasted another 24 hours or so, and once the streets had been cleared, Seto was able to drop me home. The ride lasted all of 15 minutes or so and, wrapped still in Seto's cosy robe and my clothes from the day before in a bag on my knee, I almost wished the ride could have lasted longer. I wasn't particularly looking forward to going back to my cold, dingy wee apartment, after being caressed in the embrace of luxury at the Kaiba Estate. But, just before I opened the door to let myself out of the car, all thoughts of my meagre living space were soon dispelled as Seto leant over and brushed my cheek with his lips. This in turn evoked a response in me that I could barely control. Let's just say it was another ten to fifteen minutes before I actually managed to clamber out of the car in a rosy daze.

The bottom of my newly-purchased Gucci handbag seemed to be bottomless at the most inconvenient of times. After I had suffered the humiliation of walking through my apartment building in a robe attracting several odd stares from other residents, do you think I could find the key to my apartment? No. Well, I did, in the end, but it seemed to take 95 years in doing so. When I finally did, there was nothing better than getting through that door and seeing all of my belongings exactly as I'd left them. It occurred to me, also, that the last time I'd been here I'd been an uptight, upset, strung-out, emotionally nervous wrecking ball, harbouring a terrible secret that was eating me from the inside out. But now, that secret had been let out of its cage, and the consequences had swung in my favour. I grinned to myself and sighed, glad to be home, and promptly went and jumped up and down on the couch in glee. Oh yes, home, sweet home.

**


	11. Glamour

**

Dior. Valentino. Louis Vuitton. Gucci. Marchesa. Oscar de la Renta. Marc Jacobs. Elie Saab. Emanuel Ungaro. Philip Lim. Versace. Chanel. Yves Saint Laurent. Balmain. Armani. Christian Lacroix. Jean Paul Gaultier. Roberto Cavalli. Burberry. Prada. Louis Vuitton. Lanvin. Balenciaga. Dolce & Gabbana. Diane von Ferstanburg. Salvatore Ferragamo. Christopher Kane. Alexander McQueen. Calvin Klein. Ralph Lauren. Giambattista Valli. Reem Acra. Rodarte. Jason Wu. Zac Posen. Proenzer Schouler.

How was I supposed to decide?

Now, before you bitch-slap me with intent to cause grievous bodily harm and tell me to quit my bitching because I'm living every fangirl's dream (even if this is not my particular opinion), let me point out a few vital details here. I am now Seto Kaiba's official spouse, yes. But! It's not as great as it sounds.

First and foremost, it was bizarre to be in a sexual relationship with one's boss. It was not something I had ever experienced before (as _if_ I would have ever gone there with Yokita) and even though the mere thought of Seto set my heart aflame, it still felt slightly odd knowing that we looked at each other in a different light, now. Gone was that "strictly professional" relationship that I had tried so hard to maintain. Technically, Kaiba was still my boss. But now I couldn't get in trouble with him anymore. I hoped. And, as much as I wanted to, I was having a bit of a hard time trying to ease up on the whole platonic thing that used to be between us. As affectionate as I wanted to be with him, it was a work in progress. I still, on some level, felt that it was inappropriate. And no, in case you were wondering, sex was not on the table. What? I know you want to know! So, no. No is your answer. I have not seen or touched or felt Kaiba Seto's penis. Yet.

Secondly, I am on page 3 of just about every Japanese gossip and fashion magazine, even on my fat days, even when I'm PMSing to hell, even when I have no makeup on, even when I'm hung-over as fuck. For all the world to see. Apparently I am also engaged, pregnant, already secretly married, going to Bermuda for my honeymoon, breaking up, adopting a child from Mongolia, have had an eating disorder, have had a nose job, breast implants, Botox, and am addicted to cocaine. All at once. Now _that_ is something you could write a book about! But, alas, what could I do? None of it was true, of course, but the media weren't to know unless I was interviewed, in which I sternly declined.

Seto and I had been seen once out on a date since we had become exclusive, and so the feast began. The paparazzi were just about losing their minds with delirium at seeing us merely walking in close proximity or being in the same car together. It was like their greatest fantasy ever come true. Not quite on the same level as when Brad and Angelina were found out, but close to it. As if my job wasn't hectic enough, my phone was constantly ringing off of the hook with people asking me if they could do a story on me, or if I would be so kind as to come for an interview. My reply? A curt "fuck off" seemed to be doing the trick, so far. Apparently I had now become the new "it" girl in Japan (with an attitude, supposedly…), and I had even started to recognise myself in the fashion pages of local rags, and consequently seen women strutting about the streets in similar attire as myself.

Seisaki had been driven to become a homicidal maniac (well, almost), the moment she found out that we were an item. She was the one person I wasn't looking forward to telling, because she promptly said "I told you so", followed by more vulgar innuendos and sarcastic curses the moment I let it slip. On the whole, though, my friends and family were happy for me, and I couldn't have been happier for myself, but my step-father had his doubts. I hoped that placating him as much as was virtually possible over phone and internet conversations would suffice.

Anyway, back to the most current state of affairs: choosing a dress for the business awards in Moscow. I had been towed around the city by Seto and Mokuba in their limousine to just about every designer boutique you could possibly think of. So far, I had not found a single dress that suited me, and the overly-flamboyant staff members at each store were throwing the craziest of designs at me, most of which were a little too avant-garde for my taste. Obviously, being that I was known around town these days, they all wanted me to wear their labels, but so far I was just having no luck whatsoever. Let me give you the synopsis of my shopping trip with the Kaiba brothers so far…

"I look like a mop crossed with a salsa dancer crossed with a…whatever those sea creatures are that….flap… when they swim." I declared, shuffling out from what seemed like the millionth fitting room that day.

"A Spanish Dancer?" Mokuba piped up.

"Yeah. Didn't I already say that?"

"You said a salsa dancer."

I glared. "You are not being very helpful." I looked to Seto for verification. "Well?"

"You look like a drowning piece of chewed up, washed up squid." He sighed, then looked to the staff member who looked like he was about to break a sweat any moment. "I have been a client of Valentino's for years and you want to dress my partner up like a drowning fish?"

"Accept my apologies, Kaiba-sama – let me find something else for her,"

"If your tastes are anything to go by, I don't think we will bother, thank you. Where is your manager?"

"I _am_ the manager, Kaiba-sama." He stuttered nervously.

He rolled his blue eyes heavenward. "Let's go."

I deadpanned and shuffled back into the fitting room and took off the dress in which Chloe Sevigny had worn to the Golden Globes recently. It just didn't look right; in fact, it completely swamped my petite frame – I was nowhere near she leggy golden-haired goddess that she was, and wished that I could have actually picked out something myself. But, oh no, the designers know best! Sure they do. What a crock.

**

"Alright, what do you think of this one?"

"You look like Cinderella crossed with the Wicked Queen." Mokuba pointed out with one eyebrow raised.

I looked down at the slightly gothic, princess-style black dress by Oscar de la Renta that I was currently wearing. I had to admit I felt quite princessy and glamourous, but perhaps it wasn't practical. "I guess you're right. Seto?"

He shook his head. "Not black. And probably not that style."

I seethed. "You know, this is the sixth dress _in this store_ that I have tried on. Something's gotta give, sooner or later!"

"Relax, Mila. We've got all day." Mokuba smiled.

I had to admit I was starting to feel my inner diva starting to emerge. "Well, help me out of this, then, would you? Where are we going next?"

Seto looked up from his Blackberry. "Our next appointment is at Elie Saab."

I grimaced. "We're going to Starbucks on the way."

**

After my frappucino, I felt a little better about this whole fiasco, and when we arrived at Elie Saab's new store, I absolutely fell in love with it the moment I walked through the doors. Just about every gown hanging up on the racks around all four sides were bejewelled in thousands of Swarovski crystals, in all different colours, shapes and sizes. Elie Saab was truly a masterful designer and it showed in his creations. As it turned out, the man himself was currently in Japan to see how business was going at his new store here in Domino. I was a little overwhelmed to meet him, but he seemed nice and was more laid-back than some of the other glitzy characters I had met so far, and he let me browse his gorgeous creations and choose out whatever I liked to try on. I lost myself in the rows upon rows of tulle, organza, silk, chiffon and lace, almost wanting to try on every gown I came across.

Finally I culled it down to only three, and couldn't decide which one I liked more. I decided to opt for a long floor-length, strapless, princess-style gown in a demure nude colour, made from powdered tulle, with a fully embroidered corseted bodice and nude organza roses detailing the bottom. The train was quite long, but not so much that anyone would step on it or I would get myself caught up in it, somehow tangle it around my neck and strangle myself on the red carpet. It was definitely an eye-popper, but I absolutely loved it.

"It's the same style as that black one you tried on at Oscar de la Renta," Seto pointed out. "But…it's nice."

"Don't I know it." I winked and did a twirl. "So, what's the verdict?"

"It's a ten from me!" Mokuba cried giving the thumbs up. "You look beautiful!"

"It would be suitable for the ball that is going to be held after the awards." Seto said indifferently.

I frowned. "Ball?"

"It is tradition to hold a ball after the awards and dinner. The women usually change dresses in between." He said this as if I should have already known.

"Hold on," I said, putting a finger up and closing my eyes. "I need _two_ dresses? Not one, _two_?"

"Well, yeah." Seto shrugged.

I merely stared at him. "Why didn't you _tell_ me that?!" I blithered, starting to hyperventilate. "This is turning into a more painful ordeal that I had hoped for and you tell me now that I have to have two dresses instead of _one_?!"

Randomly, he laughed – quite loudly. "Do you _know_ how ridiculous you look standing there in that huge dress cussing me out?"

I felt my face go hot and sighed, trying to calm myself. "Alright, well, from this point onward, I don't give a shit what either of you think! I like this dress, so I'm taking it. Now, onto the next fucking store!"

**

"I think a mermaid style dress would suit your figure. It would accentuate your curves nicely. I think I have just the dress, wait here."

I waited patiently in the Marchesa boutique, sure that every vein and blood vessel was popping out of my face at this point, trying to calm myself by gazing at yet more exquisite gowns and dresses. The young woman who worked at the store was not pushy or intimidating or flamboyant or manic, which I appreciated. She seemed to know what she was talking about, too, and came back with what looked to be quite the eye-catching gown. She didn't use words like "fabulous" or "chic", or call me "honey" or "darling", like so many of the other – obviously gay – designers I'd encountered today.

"Songstress Katy Perry wore this dress recently, and I think you would look spectacular in it. You have a similar body shape to her. Why don't you try it on?"

I came out of the fitting room feeling like I had hit the nail on the head. This fish-tail style gown did exactly what the shop assistant had promised – it emphasized my generous hourglass shape, hugging in all the right places, and the colour was exactly to my taste – a demure blush-pink with a black floral design over one shoulder. _This one could be my "awards and dinner" dress, and the Elie Saab number could be the "ball" dress,_ I scoffed mentally to myself. Needless to say, it was a hit with Seto and Mokuba and without more adieu it was shoved into a box and taken away.

"We have two more places to go." Seto said after he'd taken the dress inside its box and put it in the back of the limo.

"I am _not_ trying anymore dresses!" I shrieked, deflating into the seat. "I swear to God, I'll go naked to these awards if I have to."

"You will need shoes, and jewellery." Seto stated. "And some kind of a stole since it's going to be freezing."

I sank further back into my seat. "Right."

**

The rest of the trip went relatively smoothly. It didn't require any removing of clothes three million times until I got it right, which was a relief. We went on to Christian Louboutin for my shoes. I snapped up a pair of classic red-soled black platform stilettos on the first go. For shoes to go with the ball dress I selected a pair of nude not-quite-so-high heels, so I wouldn't make a total ass of myself while attempting to dance by falling over. Quietly I hoped that maybe I'd be too smashed on vodka to dance, thus embarrassing Kaiba too much to ask me for a dance. Finally, to round the day off, we stopped in at Cartier for my jewels. I suddenly felt nauseous as I entered the jewellery store, as I realised that the price of my dresses were nothing compared with the diamonds that were slung over the velvet cushions and display cabinets here.

You must think I'm a gold digger, huh? Well, you're wrong! Several times I insisted Seto only hire these things for me, but, oh no – he wanted to buy them. Money was obviously no object to him, but I couldn't help feeling bad. When was I ever going to wear these dresses again? When would I ever wear this absolutely jaw-dropping diamond cuff again? Or those brain-haemorrhage-inducing drop earrings the size of my fist? Well, maybe not my fist, but you get the drift. Anyhow, Seto was insistent that I was to look stunning – not just my usual, run-of-the mill every day self – at these awards, and I couldn't help thinking that perhaps he just wanted some decent arm-candy for the occasion. Then I decided that was silly. He was his _own_ arm candy!

Finally, the last day of the working year came to a close, and to celebrate the successes of Kaiba Corporation over the past year, Seto (or rather, Mokuba, who talked him into it) let everyone go home early with a bottle of Dom Pérignon in hand. It was December 22nd – the day before we were due to head to Russia. I phoned my friends and family that night to wish them a Merry Christmas, because I probably wasn't going to have a chance between now and then. On the morning of the 23rd, we left Mokuba to his own devices after he dropped us off at the airport, where Kaiba stored his private jet. Mokuba would be looking after the mansion in Seto's absence until we got back after the New Year.

"Bye guys! Have a great time!" Mokuba said, waving happily to us as we boarded the plane. No doubt he was just glad to see us gone for the next 2 weeks so he could party up large at home without Kaiba there to reprimand him.

The flight was like any other commercial jet ride, except for that there were no screaming babies, offensive bodily odours, terrible food or lame movies. Oh no. There was champagne. There were oysters. There were luxurious leather reclining seats, and a selection of the latest films should I choose to watch one. I chose instead, however, to gorge myself and then promptly fell asleep on Kaiba's shoulder, not knowing a thing until, a good eight hours later, we landed in Moscow. Vodka, anyone?

**

Russia was stunning. Possibly the most beautiful place I had ever been, and _that_ was saying something. I never thought any other place in the world could top New Zealand or Japan in the way of natural beauty, but Russia was simply exquisite. It had this Old World, almost gothic feel to it that couldn't match any other place I had been. Not only that – but everything in the city was draped in the festivities of Christmas, and Russia seemed to take it to a whole new, classical, majestic level. Moscow was Christmas royalty. The spiralling cathedral steeples and snow-laden streets; people walking in big fur coats and hats; stunningly beautiful women ice skating on frozen ponds. It was intimately gorgeous, revolutionary and grand. Such a change from the oriental way of life back in Japan, and different again to the contemporary, modern western way of life in New Zealand. Everything here was old – mixed with the new, of course – and it made you feel small and insignificant. I felt like a child in a candy store, in complete awe and wonder at the magnificence surrounding me.

We booked into the Ritz Carlton hotel in Moscow, being escorted straight to the top floor's penthouse suite. I have to admit, I almost squealed with excitement at the classic, historical feel to the suite with all the dark wood, velvet drapes, silk upholstery and gilt-framed mirrors. A grand old fireplace (modernised with gas) flickered to one side of the spacious apartment, next to which was a heavy oak writing desk complete with a feather quill pen. A huge four-poster king sized bed, decked out in the most luxurious silk and linen, sat in the bedroom which was partitioned off from the rest of the suite, overlooking the stunning Saint Basilica's cathedral. I could have sat at the window for hours staring at the onion-bulb-shaped towers in all their glorious colours.

The next day passed very quickly as we wined and dined and shopped until it was time to prep for the awards. Seto, as I discovered, knew enough Russian phrases for us to get by and managed to bag me an eye-catching black fox fur stole for the occasion. I felt a little off wearing fur, but it was so universally worn in this revolutionist country that I opted to turn a blind eye, just for tonight, and silently thanked the fox-spirit for keeping me warm in this frigid climate.

Kaiba had requested one of Moscow's most infamous hairdressers to come and make good my hair, which needed some serious attention. After a deep conditioning treatment, trim and updo, I felt like a brand new woman. All that was followed by me applying my own makeup and slipping into the Marchesa mermaid-style gown, Christian Louboutins and diamonds, and I was finally ready to make my mark on Russia. Kaiba, I noticed, glanced at me appreciatively once I was completely primped and preened for the occasion, and I had to say he looked rather dashing in a traditional black tuxedo and black calf-length overcoat and black shearling gloves.

"Very nice," he remarked, eyeing me from the feet up.

I raised an eyebrow aristocratically. "Could say the same for you."

He merely smirked a little and came toward me, caressing a barrelling curl that fell down the side of my face. I glanced at him from under my eyelashes and reached up to place my lips on his fleetingly. Arm-in-arm, we exited the penthouse and made our way down the grand marble stairs to the awaiting limousine.

**


	12. Vodka

Phantom: Ay, ay, ay, ay AY! It's been so long since I've posted and I am veryveryveryvery sorry! Thank you to those who still find this story entertaining; I do hope you enjoy this latest instalment, and there will be at least one more chapter to go to wrap it up ^^ Many thanks!

Chapter 12: Vodka

The venue was as majestic as ever to fit the event. Looking something akin to the Grand Kremlin Palace, the awards were being held at a large estate owned by a very wealthy Russian diplomat, who had kindly donated his manor for the night. The red carpet was indeed rolled out for the attendees, myself and Kaiba included. I felt my heart kicking in my chest in anticipation, though I wasn't quite sure why. It wasn't like we were at the Oscars or the Golden Globes, with well-known celebrities left right and centre, but it still felt rather special. Suddenly, I wondered if I would receive a goodie bag. Didn't I hear Kaiba mention something about goodie bags back in Japan? Oh well, no point worrying about it at this particular moment. I was about to step foot on the red carpet.

Kaiba had a firm grip on my forearm as he exited the car first, held the door open for me, and helped me out, making me look effortlessly graceful in his strength as he hauled me to my feet. I had to suppress a chuckle at him, knowing full well that I would have probably assed over right there and then if he hadn't been holding me up. I took a handful of my train and hitched my dress up enough so I could walk elegantly, not once letting go of Seto's arm. Immediately cameras snapped into life and I found myself not even having to force a smile to my face – it came naturally. I even waved to some of the photographers. Seto, as usual, looked straight ahead with a stony, expressionless face, but I was for once enjoying the limelight. The snow fell softly onto my stole and onto Kaiba's shoulders, but we were very quickly through the doors and back into the warmth.

I recognised very few faces. As we were ushered to our seats in the grand dining hall, I only recognised a few major global icons from America, and some from the east. My heart nearly leapt into my throat when I noticed Pegasus J. Crawford (with different arm candy, this time) and Otogi Ryuuji. To be fair, they both had thriving businesses credited to their name, so I suppose they had just as much right to be here as Kaiba did. As we were all seated at the same table, we tried to make small-talk, but it was a little tense. I spoke mainly to Otogi-san and Kaiba and, for Kaiba's sake, tried to pace myself on the alcohol. But with so much in free supply, it was difficult to show restraint.

Finally, when I was on borderline starvation, the degustation fare started arriving on silver platters. The appetizer consisted of a small bowl of borsch with garlic butter-filled Kaiser rolls, and a shot of vodka to go down with it in true Russian style. The entrees then followed which consisted of Siberian meat dumplings, which I found quite tasty. Judging by the amount of silverware I had on either side of me, I figured this was probably going to be something of a 5-course affair, and if Kaiba was going to be waltzing me around the ballroom later, he had another thing coming! Unless he was happy to heave a half-cut walrus around the floor. Which I doubted.

Following the entrees were the mains, in which I opted for the chicken Kiev as opposed to the quail, musk-ox steak or fishcakes. Once again, this came with forever-refilling shot-glasses of vodka. Needless to say, the Russians really lived up to their name (well, Ukrainians, if you want to get technical) when it came to the Kiev. It was melt-in-your-mouth, garlicky, buttery goodness, and if it hadn't been for the wave of food yet to come, I would have ordered seconds.

A little later on, so as to digest our heavenly meals, the dessert came; this was possibly even more exquisite than the main. Kaiba and I shared a slice of drunken cherry chocolate cake, in which the cherries were soaked in rum overnight before being folded into a dark, rich chocolate cake mixture and baked to perfection. It almost rivalled the birthday cake Seto had that was the size of a paddling pool (no joke). Finally, after all those gastronomically wonderful delights, liquered coffee was served with slices of fresh fruit to finish. I was more or less busting at the seams inside my corseted dress, but did I regret one morsel? Hell no!

Among the harmonies being played on the piano and the by the symphony orchestra in the background were Tchaikovsky, Chopin, traditional Russian opera and even some Siberian folk songs. But that all soon died off and the lights dimmed as the show was about to swing into action. I manoeuvred my chair around so I could see the stage properly and Kaiba slipped an arm around my waist, giving the side of my butt a little squeeze. I snorted and did the same back to him.

"For luck," I whispered, just before the hosts began announcing the nominees.

Over the next hour, I had to say I was glad to have vodka and champagne at the table, as it was one of the driest hours of my life. I hadn't the faintest idea that there could have been so many different kinds of awards to give out, however I did perk up when Seto was nominated for some of them – most of which he won. He cleaned up the awards in the nominations for Most Successful Young Entrepreneur, Most Profitable Business in Technology, Most Successful National _and_ International Company and Most Influential Company in the gaming technology category. I really felt proud of him – and a little bit for myself, for helping him to a degree to achieve those awards. It certainly called for a celebration.

Once the awards ceremony was over, it was finally time for the dancing. Seto had had one of his assistants take my other gear into one of the parlours of the estate for me to change into once the time came. I was escorted to said parlour by a large, strapping woman, who I guessed worked at the manor, along with most of the other ladies who were guests at the awards. When I stepped in, I felt like I'd accidentally ended up backstage at some kind of circus dressing-room. There were women sitting on tiny little stools in front of flashy mirrors wearing corsets, suspenders, stockings and huge diamond necklaces powdering their faces and fixing their hair. More women stood behind them pulling tighter the laces on their bustiers. Most of them held a cigarette in one hand and were barking to each other in many different languages and laughing and drinking, too.

The rather generously proportioned woman who had been escorting me ushered me to my own stool and the moment I began to sit down, she stopped me. I was about to object when she started unhooking the hooks and eyes at the back of my dress, giving me one hell of a fright. No one said anything about being stripped! I started to object once again but she barked something to me in what I assumed was Russian, and I decided to just go with it. I must say I also felt quite relieved once the restraints of my dress were removed, and savoured the moment, knowing I'd be put into the next circulation-cutting-off gown very shortly.

"_Now_, you may sit." The woman said in a heavy Russian accent. "My name Olga. I look after you tonight, and your things. You want cigarette? Drink?"

So she did speak English, even if it was slightly broken. "No, no cigarette, thank you. What is there to drink?"

"_Vod_ka," Olga said heartily, giving me a beaming, toothless smile. "You like?"

I nodded and she went away, got me a drink, then disappeared again. I looked at all the items of cosmetics in front of me on the small glass table, deciding I should try and touch myself up a little. Olga then returned with a glass of vodka for herself in one hand and my ball gown slung over the other arm. She had a smoke dangling out one side of her mouth as she gestured for me to stand up and step into the gown. I did so and she started lacing me up so tight I actually thought I might implode. This did, however, create a rather impressive cleavage. I stepped up into my next pair of shoes, fixed my hair a little, and then I was off again.

Olga barged her way through the other women in the parlour, who were fluffing around, to make way for me. I followed her down the corridor to what I assumed would be the ball room up ahead.

"Who is your man? Who are you here with?" she asked, on the way.

I cleared my throat a little. "Kaiba Seto."

"Ah, the rich boy, no? Japanese?"

"_Da_."

"He is very nice looking; you are lucky woman, _dochenka_."

"Thank you."

As we reached the end of the corridor, we rounded the corner to find two open doors. Inside, a Christmas tree so tall it graced the ceiling was at the far end of the hall, decorated exquisitely. The rest of the room was also decorated in Christmas-themed banners, and it was only seeing this that I remembered it was Christmas Day tomorrow. I could also see a man playing on a grand piano with a woman singing in Russian, wearing a dress that reminded me of Jessica Rabbit's, up on a stand next to him. People were standing around in clusters talking, drinking and laughing, and beyond them was the grand dance floor with many people already dancing upon it. I felt like I was Cinderella arriving at the ball.

"I leave you now," Olga announced. "You have good party time. Much dance. Much _vodka_." She suggested.

I smiled at her. "Thank you, Olga. Merry Christmas."

"_Da_. Merry Christmas."

I entered the room, a little hesitant not knowing anyone, and finally made out Seto's outline through the crowd. He towered above most of the other men; his broad shoulders and crown of lustrous brown hair standing out above everyone else. He was amidst conversation with some other men, talking business no doubt, standing in a small circle, and he was the last one to notice me as I approached him from behind. When his eyes fell upon me, I thought I saw his mask of macho-ness falter. His eyes softened, and his throat visibly tightened when he looked at me. But then, as quickly as it came, the look was gone, and replaced by a devilish glint in his eye, a smirk touching his lips.

"Well, don't you just look the perfect Russian doll?"

I rolled my eyes. "God knows I feel like one. I've been stripped and poked and prodded enough, and forced to drink too much vodka."

"Like that would be a problem, for you." He mocked. "Shall we dance?"

I scowled. "I have two left feet when it comes to _this_ kind of dancing." I blushed. Sure, I might be able to break it down in the club, but when it came to _waltzing_, well, let's just say it was not my forte.

"Just follow my lead." Seto reassured, taking my hand in one of his and placing his other hand onto my waist. I swallowed, fearing I was about to break out into a nervous sweat.

As it turned out, Seto was what one might call an expert at ballroom dancing – one of the other many talents I did not know he possessed – and even when I fumbled to follow, he still made me look elegant. I definitely felt like Cinderella now as my own personal Prince Charming twirled me around the floor, not once letting me fall or trip over myself. All of the other party-goers were starting to get into the swing of things, as well. People found their own dancing partners and let loose on the dance floor to the sound of eloquent classical piano, as well as a woman now playing the harp. It was like some kind of beautiful, unrehearsed ballet as men and women dressed up to their finest glided around the ballroom floor. I felt giddy and deliriously joyful by the time the dance was over, and everybody clapped for each other before the next tune began, this time livelier. I was a little hesitant to take part in this dance, but I had every confidence in Seto, and so went with the flow.

After a few dances of varying tempos, I was starting to feel whacked and not only a little too tipsy than was good for me, but also ready for bed. A hot shower wouldn't go astray, either, I decided, once we returned to the hotel. Kaiba and I were in the midst of a slow dance to end the night, when the loud chimes of a grandfather clock tolled midnight.

"Merry Christmas." Seto leant down and whispered in my ear.

I smiled and leant back to look at him. "And to you. Merry Christmas." And kissed him.

It was almost one o'clock in the morning by the time we got back to the hotel. The night might have started off a little dry, but I had thoroughly enjoyed the food and the dancing, and since it was also now my favourite day of the year, I was feeling especially blissful. Christmas Day had always been special to me. There was just something about the festive season that got me in high spirits, with all the decorations and divine food and celebrations that followed. It was a fine way to see in the New Year, as well, I thought, and I always looked forward to this time of the year. Back home, it was summer at Christmastime, but here in the northern hemisphere, I got to have my first White Christmas. Since I'd moved to Japan, I'd always come home for Christmas, so this was essentially the first time I'd seen snow on Christmas Day before, and what more grand way to spend it than in Moscow, one of the prettiest, snowiest cities in the world.

Seto slid the key card into the door and let us into the penthouse. A holly wreath was hung up on the door, as with all the other doors of the hotel, which I hadn't noticed before. I was surprised, to say the least, as I looked around to see that the suite had been decorated in Christmas cheer, where it hadn't been before we'd left for the evening several hours ago. Bunches of holly were placed around the room either in vases or pinned to the furnishings; long red velvet banners had been strung up around the four-poster bed, and even a small Christmas tree perched on the bay window overlooking the Red Square, its lights twinkling like jewels. A huge bunch of creamy-white Christmas lilies were in a tall glass vase on the dining room table, emanating their scent through the room. There were also white wax candles placed around the room just-so, to give the room a soft ambience. Seto walked to the old vintage style stereo and flicked it on. Old slow-jazz Christmas records by Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby and the like, began to play. I had a weakness for this kind of music around Christmastime, but I had no idea Seto knew. I looked to him for verification; all he did was smirk mildly, trying hard not to show it.

"You did all this?" I queried, awestruck.

"There's more."

Following him, I walked past the flickering gas fire, holding my dress up as I went, in the direction of the bathroom. Seto opened the door for me, and I gasped in wonderment at the sight beheld. Hundreds of white candles had been lit and placed around the rectangular shaped bath. Strewn around the bath – and in it as well – were white rose petals. A bottle of Möet & Chandon sat on ice at the side of the bath, accompanied by two crystal champagne flutes. The room was steamy, indicating that the bath was full of balmy, inviting warm water. Seto had obviously had this planned.

"Shall we get in?" he suggested.

I suddenly felt all the blood rush to my face. I realised that this would be the first time Seto and I would be seeing each other in less than was required, but I was not nervous. I had always been comfortable with my body, and had no doubt in my mind that he would come to like what he saw. I had every confidence in him that this would be a night to remember.

Seto closed the bathroom door behind us and walked to me, finding my neck with his lips. I could feel him undoing the stays at the back of my dress, and so I began to unbutton his shirt. I sighed as I felt his lips lazily trace my collarbone right to the outermost point of my shoulder; the wine and vodka we had both consumed over the course of the night made us feel more at-ease in a situation that could otherwise be awkward. But there was no awkwardness, no embarrassment. I put it down to the fact that we'd known each other so long now, almost a year, and had spent the better part of our lives in each other's presence day in, day out. It just seemed like the natural next step to take.

I felt my gown and undergarments slip to the floor, along with Seto's, and before we got into the tub, I wanted to take a good look at him. Gloriously nude, he was like a Roman god; his pale skin was magnificent in its wake, a sharp contrast to the fine, dark curls of his chest and other areas. I eyed appreciatively his masculinity and the lines that defined his abdomen and the muscles in his legs, chest and arms. All of that, along with the stark blueness of his eyes that almost glowed violet in the candlelight, was almost enough to tip me over the edge. He was perfectly delicious, the essence of man.

We climbed into the tub, and I poured us each a glass of champagne. The balmy water was heaven on my muscles that were aching from the bone-chilling cold of the Russian night. Laying in each other's arms drinking champagne, we talked and laughed quietly about the events of the night, and other trivial things from what we were going to do for Christmas Day, to what Mokuba might be up to right now on the other side of the world.

Later on, after we were thoroughly relaxed from the soaking, Seto beckoned me to the grand king-sized four-poster bed. With the magical Red Square lit up in varying colours as a very fitting backdrop to the special occasion, we made love all night long to the sound of old Christmassy jazz records, and snow falling mutedly outside the window. It was the closest thing to a fairytale that I could ever imagine coming to.


End file.
